THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY       X"t^ 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


GIFT  OF 

Mrs.  Paul  Boyich 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 


KNIGHT  OF  THE  NETS 


BY 


AMELIA   E.vBARR 


NEW   YORK 

DODD,  MEAD   AND   COMPANY 
1896 


Copyright,  189G, 
BY  DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY. 


All  rights  reserved. 


SIm'bersitn 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.A. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  THE  WORLD  SHE  LIVED  IN i 

II.  CHRISTINA  AND  ANDREW 18 

III.  THE  AILING  HEART 41 

IV.  THE  LASH  OF  THE  WHIP 71 

V.  THE  LOST  BRIDE 91 

VI.  WHERE  is  MY  MONEY? 120 

VII.  THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  END    ....  141 

VIII.  A  GREAT  DELIVERANCE 167 

IX.  THE  RIGHTING  OF  A  WRONG     ....  190 

X.  TAKE  ME  IN  TO  DIE 217 

XI.  DRIVEN  TO  His  DUTY 249 

XII.  AMONG  HER  OWN  PEOPLE      .....  277 

XIII.  THE  "LITTLE  SOPHY" 301 


058 


Grey  sky,  brown  waters:  as  a  bird  that  flies 

My  heart  flits  forth  to  these ; 
Back  to  the  winter  rose  of  Northern  skies, 

Back  to  the  Northern  seas. 


A  KNIGHT  OF  THE  NETS 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  WORLD   SHE   LIVED   IN 

IT  would  be  easy  to  walk  many  a  time  through 
"Fife  and  all  the  lands  about  it"  and  never 
once  find  the  little  fishing  village  of  Pittendurie. 
Indeed,  it  would  be  a  singular  thing  if  it  was 
found,  unless  some  special  business  or  direction 
led  to  it.  For  clearly  it  was  never  intended 
that  human  beings  should  build  homes  where 
these  cottages  cling  together,  between  sea  and 
sky,  —  a  few  here,  and  a  few  there,  hidden  away 
in  every  bend  of  the  rocks  where  a  little  ground 
could  be  levelled,  so  that  the  tides  in  stormy 
weather  break  with  threat  and  fury  on  the  very 
doorstones  of  the  lowest  cottages. 

Yet  as  the  lofty  semicircle  of  hills  bend  in 
ward,  the  sea  follows ;  and  there  is  a  fair  harbour, 
where  the  fishing  boats  ride  together  while  their 
sails  dry  in  the  afternoon  sun.  Then  the  hamlet 
i  i 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

is  very  still;  for  the  men  are  sleeping  off  the 
weariness  of  their  night  work,  while  the  chil 
dren  play  quietly  among  the  tangle,  and  the 
women  mend  the  nets  or  bait  the  lines  for  the 
next  fishing.  A  lonely  little  spot,  shut  in  by 
sea  and  land,  and  yet  life  is  there  in  all  its  pas 
sionate  variety  —  love  and  hate,  jealousy  and 
avarice,  youth,  with  its  ideal  sorrows  and  infinite 
expectations,  age,  with  its  memories  and  regrets, 
and  "sure  and  certain  hope." 

The  cottages  also  have  their  individualities. 
Although  they  are  much  of  the  same  size  and 
pattern,  an  observing  eye  would  have  picked 
out  the  Binnie  cottage  as  distinctive  and  pre 
possessing.  Its  outside  walls  were  as  white  as 
lime  could  make  them;  its  small  windows 
brightened  with  geraniums  and  a  white  muslin 
curtain;  and  the  litter  of  ropes  and  nets  and 
drying  fish  which  encumbered  the  majority  of 
thatches,  was  pleasantly  absent.  Standing  on  a 
little  level,  thirty  feet  above  the  shingle,  it  faced 
the  open  sea,  and  was  constantly  filled  with  the 
confused  tones  of  its  sighing  surges,  and  pene 
trated  by  its  pulsating,  tremendous  vitality. 

It  had  been  the  home  of  many  generations  of 
Binnies,  and  the  very  old,  and  the  very  young, 
had  usually  shared  its  comforts  together;  but 
at  the  time  of  my  story,  there  remained  of  the 
family  only  the  widow  of  the  last  proprietor, 


THE   WORLD   SHE   LIVED   IN 

her  son  Andrew,  and  her  daughter  Christina. 
Christina  was  twenty  years  old,  and  still  un 
married,  —  a  strange  thing  in  Pittendurie,  where 
early  marriages  are  the  rule.  Some  said  she 
was  vain  of  her  beauty  and  could  find  no  lad 
whom  she  thought  good  enough;  others 
thought  she  was  a  selfish,  cold-hearted  girl, 
feared  for  the  cares  and  the  labours  of  a  fisher 
man's  wife. 

On  this  July  afternoon,  the  girl  had  been  some 
hours  mending  the  pile  of  nets  at  her  feet;  but 
at  length  they  were  in  perfect  order,  and  she 
threw  her  arms  upward  and  outward  to  relieve 
their  weariness,  and  then  went  to  the  open  door. 
The  tide  was  coming  in,  but  the  children  were 
still  paddling  in  the  salt  pools  and  on  the  cold 
bladder  rack,  and  she  stepped  forward  to  the 
edge  of  the  cliff,  and  threw  them  some  wild 
geranium  and  ragwort.  Then  she  stood  motion 
less  in  the  bright  sunlight,  looking  down  the 
shingle  towards  the  pier  and  the  little  tavern, 
from  which  came,  in  drowsy  tones,  the  rough 
monotonous  songs  which  seamen  delight  to  sing 
—  songs,  full  of  the  complaining  of  the  sea, 
interpreted  by  the  hoarse,  melancholy  voices  of 
sea-faring  men. 

Standing*  thus  in  the  clear  light,  her  great 
beauty  was  not  to  be  denied.  She  was  tall  and 
not  too  slender;  and  at  this  moment/the  set  of 

3 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

her  head  was  like  that  of  a  thoroughbred  horse, 
when  it  pricks  its  ears  to  listen.  She  had  soft 
brown  eyes,  with  long  lashes  and  heavy  eye 
brows  —  eyes,  reflecting  the  lances  of  light  that 
darted  in  and  out  of  the  shifting  clouds  —  an 
open  air  complexion,  dazzling,  even  teeth,  an 
abundance  of  dark,  rippling  hair,  and  a  flush  of 
ardent  life  opening  her  wide  nostrils,  and  stirring 
gently  the  exquisite  mould  of  her  throat  and 
bust.  The  moral  impression  she  gave  was  that 
of  a  pure,  strong,  compassionate  woman ;  cool- 
headed,  but  not  cold  ;  capable  of  vigorous  joys 
and  griefs. 

After  a  few  minutes'  investigation,  she  went 
back  to  the  cottage,  and  stood  in  the  open  door 
way,  with  her  head  leaning  against  the  lintel. 
Her  mother  had  begun  to  prepare  the  evening 
meal ;  fresh  fish  were  frying  on  the  fire,  and  the 
oat  cakes  toasting  before  it.  Yet,  as  she  moved 
rapidly  about,  she  was  watching  her  daughter, 
and  very  soon  she  gave  words  to  the  thoughts 
troubling  and  perplexing  her  motherly  specula 
tions. 

"  Christina,"  she  said,  "you'll  not  require  to 
be  looking  for  Andrew.  The  lad  is  ben  the 
house ;  he  has  been  asleep  ever  since  he  eat  his 
dinner." 

"  I  know  that,  Mother." 

"  Well  then,  if  it  is  Jamie  Logan,  let  me  tell 
4 


THE   WORLD   SHE   LIVED   IN 

you  it  is  a  poor  business.  I  have  a  fear  and 
an  inward  down-sinking  anent  that  young 
man." 

"  Perfect  nonsense,  Mother !  There  is  nothing 
to  fear  you  about  Jamie." 

"  What  good  ever  came  through  folk  saved 
from  the  sea?  Tell  me  that,  Christina!  They 
bring  sorrow  back  with  them.  That  is  a  fact 
none  will  deny." 

"  What  could  Andrew  do  but  save  the  lad  ?  " 

"  Why  was  the  lad  running  before  such  a  sea? 
He  should  have  got  into  harbour ;  there  was  time 
enough.  And  if  it  was  Andrew's  duty  to  save 
him,  it  is  not  your  duty  to  be  loving  him.  You 
may  take  that  much  sense  from  me,  anyway." 

"  Whist,  Mother!  He  has  not  said  a  word  of 
love  to  me." 

"  He  perfectly  changes  colours  every  time  he 
sees  you,  and  why  so,  if  it  be  not  for  love  of 
you?  I  am  not  liking  the  look  of  the  thing, 
Christina,  and  your  brother  is  not  liking  it; 
and  if  you  don't  take  care  of  yourself,  you  '11  be 
in  a  burning  fever  of  first  love,  and  beyond  all 
reasoning.  Even  now,  you  are  making  yourself 
a  speculation  to  the  whole  village." 

"  Jamie  is  a  straight-forward  lad.  I  'm  think 
ing  he  would  lay  his  life  down  for  me." 

"  I  thought  he  had  not  said  a  word  of  love  to 
you." 

5 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  A  girl  knows  some  things  that  are  not  told 
her." 

"  Very  fine ;  but  it  will  not  be  the  fashion  now 
to  lie  down  and  die  for  Annie  Laurie,  or  any 
other  lass.  A  young  man  who  wants  a  wife 
must  bustle  around  and  get  siller  to  keep  her 
with.  Getting  married,  these  days  is  not  a 
thing  to  make  a  song  about.  You  are  but  a 
young  thing  yet,  Christina,  and  you  have  much 
to  learn." 

"  Would  you  not  like  to  be  young  again, 
Mother?" 

"  No,  I  would  not !  I  would  not  risk  it.  Be 
sides,  it  would  be  going  back ;  and  I  want  to  go 
forward  and  upward.  But  you  need  not  try  to 
turn  the  talk  from  Jamie  Logan  that  way.  I  '11 
say  again  what  I  said  before,  you  will  be  in 
a  fever  of  first  love,  and  not  to  be  reasoned 
with,  if  you  don't  take  care  of  yourself." 

The  girl  flushed  hotly,  came  into  the  house, 
and  began  to  re-arrange  the  teacups  with  a 
nervous  haste;  for  she  heard  Jamie's  steps  on 
the  rocky  road,  and  his  voice,  clear  as  a  black 
bird's,  whistling  gayly  "  In  the  Bay  of  Bis 
cay  O  !  " 

"  The  teacups  are  all  right,  Christina.  I  am 
talking  anent  Jamie  Logan.  The  lad  is  just  a 
temptation  to  you ;  and  you  will  require  to  ask 
for  strength  to  be  kept  out  of  temptation ;  for 

6 


THE   WORLD   SHE   LIVED   IN 

the  Lord  knows,  the   best  of  us  don't  expect 
strength  to  resist  it." 

Christina  turned  her  face  to  her  mother,  and 
then  left  her  answer  to  Jamie  Logan.  For  he 
came  in  at  the  moment  with  a  little  tartan  shawl 
in  his  hand,  which  he  gallantly  threw  across  the 
shoulders  of  Mistress  Binnie. 

"  I  have  just  bought  it  from  a  peddler  loon," 
he  said.  "  It  is  bonnie  and  soft,  and  it  sets  you 
well,  and  I  hope  you  will  pleasure  me  by  wear 
ing  it." 

His  face  was  so  bright,  his  manner  so  charming, 
that  it  was  impossible  for  Janet  Binnie  to  resist 
him.  "  You  are  a  fleeching,  flattering  laddie," 
she  answered ;  but  she  stroked  and  fingered  the 
gay  kerchief,  while  Christina  made  her  observe 
how  bright  were  the  colours  of  it,  and  how  neatly 
the  soft  folds  fell  around  her.  Then  the  door 
of  the  inner  room  opened,  and  Andrew  came 
sleepily  out. 

"  The  fish  is  burning,"  he  said,  "  and  the 
oat  cakes  too ;  for  I  am  smelling  them  ben  the 
house ;  "  and  Janet  ran  to  her  fireside,  and  hast 
ily  turned  her  herring  and  cakes. 

"  I  'm  feared  you  won't  think  much  of  your 
meat  to-night,"  she  said  regretfully;  "  the  tea  is 
fairly  ruined." 

"  Never  mind  the  meat,  Mother,"  said  An 
drew.  "  We  don't  live  to  eat." 

7 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"  Never  mind  the  meat,  indeed !  What  per 
fect  nonsense  !  There  is  something  wrong  with 
folk  that  don't  mind  their  meat." 

"  Well  then,  you  should  n't  be  so  vain  of  your 
self,  Mother.  You  were  preening  like  a  young 
girl  when  I  first  got  sight  of  you  —  and  the 
meat  taking  care  of  itself." 

"  Me,  vain  !  No  !  No  !  Nobody  that  knows 
Janet  Binnie  can  ever  say  she  is  vain.  I  wot 
well  that  I  am  a  frail,  miserable  creature,  with 
little  need  of  being  vain,  either  for  myself  or  my 
children.  You  are  a  great  hand  at  arguing, 
Andrew,  but  you  are  always  in  the  wrong.  But 
draw  to  the  table  and  eat.  I  '11  warrant  the  fish 
will  prove  better  than  it  is  bonnie." 

They  sat  down  with  a  pleasant  content  that 
soon  broadened  into  mirth  and  laughter,  as 
Jamie  Logan  began  to  tell  and  to  show  how  the 
peddler  lad  had  fleeched  and  flethered  the  fisher 
wives  out  of  their  bawbees ;  adding  at  the  last 
"that  he  could  not  come  within  sight  of  their 
fine  words,  they  were  that  civil  to  him." 

"  Senselessly  civil,  no  doubt  of  it,"  answered 
Janet.  "  A  peddler  aye  gives  the  whole  village 
a  fit  of  the  liberalities.  The  like  of  Jean  Robert 
son  spending  a  crown  on  him  !  Foolish  woman, 
the  words  are  not  to  seek  that  she  '11  get  from 
me  in  the  morning." 

Then  Jamie  took  a  letter  from  his  pocket, 
8 


THE   WORLD   SHE   LIVED   IN 

and  showed  it  to  Andrew  Binnie.  "  Robert 
Toddy  brought  it  this  morning,"  he  said,  "  and, 
as  you  may  see,  it  is  from  the  firm  of  Henderson 
Brothers,  Glasgow;  and  they  say  there  will 
be  a  berth  for  me  very  soon  now  in  one  of 
their  ships.  And  their  boats  are  good,  and 
their  captains  good,  and  there  is  chances  for 
a  fine  sailor  on  that  line.  I  may  be  a  captain 
myself  one  of  these  days !  "  and  he  laughed 
so  gayly,  and  looked  so  bravely  into  the  face 
of  such  a  bold  idea,  that  he  persuaded  every 
one  else  to  expect  it  for  him.  Janet  pulled 
her  new  shawl  a  little  closer  and  smiled,  and 
her  thought  was :  "  After  all,  Christina  may 
wait  longer,  and  fare  worse ;  for  she  is  turned 
twenty."  Yet  she  showed  a  little  reserve  as 
she  asked :  — 

"  Are  you  then  Glasgow-born,  Jamie?  " 
"  Me  !  Glasgow-born  !  What  are  you  think 
ing  of?  I  am  from  the  auld  East  Neuk;  and  I 
am  glad  and  proud  of  being  a  Fifer.  All  my 
common  sense  comes  from  Fife.  There  is  none 
loves  the  '  Kingdom'  more  than  I,  Jamie  Logan. 
We  are  all  Fife  together.  I  thought  you 
knew  it." 

At  these    words    there    was    a    momentary 

shadow   across   the    door,    and    a    little   lassie 

slipped  in;  and  when  she  did  so,  all  put  down 

their  cups  to  welcome  her.     Andrew  reddened 

9 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

to  the  roots  of  his  hair,  his  eyes  filled  with 
light,  a  tender  smile  softened  his  firm  mouth, 
and  he  put  out  his  hand  and  drew  the  girl 
to  the  chair  which  Christina  had  pushed  close 
to  his  own. 

"  You  are  welcome,  and  more  than  welcome, 
Sophy,"  said  the  Mistress ;  but  for  all  that,  she 
gave  Sophy  a  glance  in  which  there  was  much 
speculation  not  unmixed  with  fear  and  dis 
approval.  For  it  was  easy  to  see  that  Andrew 
Binnie  loved  her,  and  that  she  was  not  at  all 
like  him,  nor  yet  like  any  of  the  fisher-girls  of 
Pittendurie.  Sophy,  however,  was  not  respon 
sible  for  this  difference;  for  early  orphanage  had 
placed  her  in  the  care  of  an  aunt  who  carried 
on  a  dress  and  bonnet  making  business  in  Largo, 
and  she  had  turned  the  little  fisher-maid  into  a 
girl  after  her  own  heart  and  wishes. 

Sophy,  indeed,  came  frequently  to  visit  her 
people  in  Pittendurie;  but  she  had  gradually 
grown  less  and  less  like  them,  and  there  was 
no  wonder  Mistress  Binnie  asked  herself  fear 
fully,  "  what  kind  of  a  wife  at  all  Sophy  would 
make  for  a  Fife  fisherman?  "  She  was  so  small 
and  genty,  she  had  such  a  lovely  face,  such  fair 
rippling  hair,  and  her  gown  was  of  blue  muslin 
made  in  the  fashion  of  the  day,  and  finished 
with  a  lace  collar  round  her  throat,  and  a  ribbon 
belt  round  her  slender  waist. 
10 


THE   WORLD   SHE   LIVED   IN 

"  A  bonnie  lass  for  a  carnage  and  pair," 
thought  Janet  Binnie ;  "  but  whatever  will  she  do 
with  the  creel  and  the  nets?  not  to  speak  of 
the  bairns  and  the  housework?" 

Andrew  was  too  much  in  love  to  consider 
these  questions.  When  he  was  six  years  old,  he 
had  carried  Sophy  in  his  arms  all  day  long ;  when 
he  was  twelve,  they  had  paddled  on  the  sands, 
and  fished,  and  played,  and  learned  their  lessons 
together.  She  had  promised  then  to  be  his 
wife  as  soon  as  he  had  a  house  and  a  boat  of 
his  own ;  and  never  for  one  moment  since  had 
Andrew  doubted  the  validity  and  certainty  of 
this  promise.  To  Andrew,  and  to  Andrew's 
family,  and  to  the  whole  village  of  Pittendurie, 
the  marriage  of  Andrew  Binnie  and  Sophy 
Traill  was  a  fact  beyond  disputing.  Some  said 
"  it  was  the  right  thing,"  and  more  said  "  it  was 
the  foolish  thing,"  and  among  the  latter  was 
Andrew's  mother;  though  as  yet  she  had  said  it 
very  cautiously  to  Andrew,  whom  she  regarded 
as  "  clean  daft  and  senselessly  touchy  about 
the  girl." 

But  she  sent  the  young  people  out  of  the 
house  while  she  redd  up  the  disorder  made  by 
the  evening  meal ;  though,  as  she  wiped  her  tea 
cups,  she  went  frequently  to  the  little  window, 
and  looked  at  the  four  sitting  together  on  the 
bit  of  turf  which  carpeted  the  top  of  the  cliff 
ii 


A   KNIGHT    OF   THE    NETS 

before  the  cottage.  Andrew,  as  a  privileged 
lover,  held  Sophy's  hand ;  Christina  sat  next 
her  brother,  and  facing  Jamie  Logan,  so  it  was 
easy  to  see  how  her  face  kindled,  and  her  man 
ner  softened  to  the  charm  of  his  merry  conver 
sation,  his  snatches  of  breezy  sea-song,  and  his 
clever  bits  of  mimicry.  And  as  Janet  walked 
to  and  fro,  setting  her  cups  and  plates  in  the 
rack,  and  putting  in  place  the  tables  and  chairs, 
she  did  what  we  might  all  do  more  frequently 
and  be  the  wiser  for  it  —  she  talked  to  herself, 
to  the  real  woman  within  her,  and  thus  got  to 
the  bottom  of  things. 

In  less  than  an  hour  there  began  to  be  a 
movement  about  the  pier,  and  then  Andrew  and 
Jamie  went  away  to  their  night's  work ;  and  the 
girls  sat  still  and  watched  the  men  across  the 
level  sands,  and  the  boats  hurrying  out  to 
the  fishing  grounds.  Then  they  went  back  to 
the  cottage,  and  found  that  Mistress  Binnie 
had  taken  her  knitting  and  gone  to  chat  with 
a  crony  who  lived  higher  up  the  cliff. 

"  We  are  alone,  Sophy"  said  Christina;  "  but 
women  folk  are  often  that."  She  spoke  a  little 
sadly,  the  sweet  melancholy  of  conscious,  but 
unacknowledged  love  being  heavy  in  her  heart; 
and  she  would  not  have  been  sorry,  had  she 
been  quite  alone  with  her  vaguely  happy 
dreams.  Neither  of  the  girls  was  inclined  to 

12 


THE   WORLD    SHE   LIVED   IN 

talk,  but  Christina  wondered  at  Sophy's  silence, 
for  she  had  been  unusually  merry  while  the 
young  men  were  present. 

Now  she  sat  quiet  on  the  door  step,  clasping 
her  left  knee  with  little  white  hands  that  had 
no  sign  of  labour  on  them  but  the  mark  of  the 
needle  on  the  left  forefinger.  At  her  side,  Chris 
tina  stood,  her  tall  straight  figure  fittingly  clad 
in  a  striped  blue  and  white  linsey  petticoat,  and 
a  little  josey  of  lilac  print,  cut  low  enough  to 
show  the  white,  firm  throat  above  it  Her  fine 
face  radiated  thought  and  feeling;  she  was  on 
the  verge  of  that  experience  which  glorifies  the 
simplest  life.  The  exquisite  glooming,  the  ten 
der  sky,  the  full  heaving  sea,  were  all  in  sweetest 
sympathy;  they  were  sufficient;  and  Sophy's 
thin,  fretful  voice  broke  the  charm  and  almost 
offended  her. 

"  It  is  a  weary  life,  Christina.  How  do  you 
thole  it?" 

"  You  are  just  talking,  Sophy.  You  were 
happy  enough  half  an  hour  since." 

"  I  was  n't  happy  at  all." 

"  You  let  on  like  you  were.  I  should  think 
you  would  be  as  fear'd  to  act  a  lie,  as  to  tell 
one." 

11 1  '11  be  going  away  from  Pittendurie  in  the 
morning." 

"What  for?" 

13 


A   KNIGHT    OF   THE   NETS 

"  I  have  my  reasons." 

"  No  doubt  you  have  a  '  because '  of  your 
own.  But  what  will  Andrew  say?  He  is  not 
expecting  you  to  leave  to-morrow." 

"I  don't  care  what  Andrew  says." 

"  Sophy  Traill !  " 

"  I  don't.  Andrew  Binnie  is  not  the  whole 
of  life  to  me." 

"  Whatever  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing." 

Then  there  was  a  pause,  and  Christina's 
thoughts  flew  seaward.  In  a  few  minutes,  how 
ever,  Sophy  began  talking  again.  "  Do  you  go 
often  into  Largo,  Christina?"  she  asked. 

"  Whiles,  I  take  myself  that  far.  You  may 
count  me  up  for  the  last  year;  for  I  sought 
you  every  time." 

"  Ay !  Do  you  mind  on  the  road  a  real 
grand  house,  fine  and  old,  with  a  beautiful  gar 
den  and  peacocks  in  it  —  trailing  their  long 
feathers  over  the  grass  and  gravel?" 

"You  will  be  meaning  Braelands?  Folks 
could  not  miss  the  place,  even  if  they  tried  to." 

"  Well  then,  did  you  ever  notice  a  young  man 
around?  He  is  always  dressed  for  the  saddle, 
or  else  he  is  in  the  saddle,  and  so  most  sure  to 
have  a  whip  in  his  hand." 

"  What  are  you  talking  about?  What  is  the 
young  man  to  you  ?  " 

14 


THE  WORLD   SHE   LIVED   IN 

"  He  is  brawly  handsome.  They  call  him 
Archie  Braelands." 

"  I  have  heard  tell  of  him.  And  by  what  is 
said,  I  should  not  think  he  was  an  improving 
friend  for  any  good  girl  to  have." 

"This,  or  that,  he  likes  me.  He  likes  me 
beyond  everything." 

"  Do  you  know  what  you  are  saying,  Sophy 
Traill?" 

"  I  do,  fine." 

"  Are  you  liking  him?  " 

"  It  would  not  be  hard  to  do." 

"  Has  he  ever  spoke  to  you?  " 

"  Well,  he  is  not  as  shy  as  a  fisher-lad.  I  find 
him  in  my  way  when  I  'in  not  thinking.  And 
see  here,  Christina ;  I  got  a  letter  from  him  this 
afternoon.  A  real  love  letter!  Such  lovely 
words !  They  are  like  poetry ;  they  are  as  sweet 
as  singing." 

"  Did  you  tell  Andrew  this?  " 

"Why  would  I  do  that?" 

"  You  are  a  false  little  cutty,  then.  I  would 
tell  Andrew  myself,  but  I  am  loath  to  hurt 
his  true  heart.  Now  you  are  to  let  Archie 
Braelands  alone,  or  I  will  know  the  reason 
why." 

"  Preserve  us  all !  What  a  blazing  passion  for 
nothing  at  all !  Can't  a  lassie  chat  with  a  lad 
for  a  half  hour  without  calling  a  court  of  ses- 
15 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

sions  about  it?"  and  she  rose  and  shook  out 
her  dress,  saying  with  an  air  of  offence :  — 

"  You  may  tell  Andrew,  if  you  like  to.  It 
would  be  a  very  poor  thing  if  a  girl  is  to  be 
miscalled  every  time  a  man  told  her  she  was 
pretty." 

"  I  'm  not  saying  any  woman  can  help  men 
making  fools  of  themselves;  but  you  should 
have  told  Braelands  that  you  were  all  the  same 
as  married,  being  promised  so  long  to  Andrew 
Binnie.  And  you  ought  to  have  told  Andrew 
about  the  letter." 

"  Everybody  can't  live  in  Pittendurie,  Chris 
tina.  And  if  you  live  with  a  town  full  of  folk, 
you  cannot  go  up  and  down,  saying  to  every 
man  you  meet,  '  please,  sir,  I  have  a  lad  of  my 
own,  and  you  are  not  to  cast  a  look  at  me,  for 
Andrew  Binnie  would  not  like  it.' " 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  Sophy,  or  else  know 
what  you  are  yattering  about.  I  would  think 
shame  to  talk  so  scornful  of  the  man  I  was 
going  to  marry." 

"  You  can  let  it  go  for  a  passing  remark. 
And  if  I  have  said  anything  to  vex  you,  we 
are  old  friends,  Christina,  and  it  is  not  a  lad 
that  will  part  us.  Sophy  requires  a  deal  of 
forgiving." 

"  She  does,"  said  Christina  with  a  smile  ;  "  so 
I  just  forgive  her  as  I  go  along,  for  she  is  still 
16 


THE   WORLD   SHE    LIVED    IN 

doing  something  out  of  the  way.  But  you  must 
not  treat  Andrew  ill.  I  could  not  love  you, 
Sophy,  if  you  did  the  like  of  that.  And  you 
must  always  tell  me  everything  about  yourself, 
and  then  nothing  will  go  far  wrong." 

"  Even  that.  I  am  not  given  to  lying  unless 
it  is  worth  my  while.  I  '11  tell  you  aught  there 
is  to  tell.  And  there  is  a  kiss  for  Andrew,  and 
you  may  say  to  him  that  I  would  have  told  him 
I  was  going  back  to  Largo  in  the  morning,  only 
that  I  cannot  bear  to  see  him  unhappy.  That 
is  a  message  to  set  him  on  the  mast-head  of 
pride  and  pleasure." 

"  I  will  give  Andrew  the  kiss  and  the  message, 
Sophy.  And  you  take  my  advice,  and  keep 
yourself  clear  of  that  young  Braelands.  I  am 
particular  about  my  own  good  name,  and  I 
mean  to  be  particular  about  yours." 

"  I  have  had  your  advice  already,  Christina." 

"  Well,  this  is  a  forgetful  world,  so  I  just 
mention  the  fact  again." 

"  All  the  same,  you  might  remember,  Chris 
tina,  that  there  was  once  a  woman  who  got  rich 
by  minding  her  own  business ;  "  and  with  a  laugh, 
the  girl  tied  her  bonnet  under  her  chin,  and  went 
swiftly  down  the  cliff  towards  the  village. 


CHAPTER  II 

CHRISTINA  AND   ANDREW 

THIS  confidence  greatly  troubled  Christina; 
and  as  Sophy  crossed  the  sands  and  vanished 
into  the  shadows  beyond,  a  strange,  sad  pre 
sentiment  of  calamity  oppressed  her  heart. 
Being  herself  in  the  enthusiasm  of  a  first  love, 
she  could  not  conceive  such  treachery  possible 
as  Sophy's  word  seemed  to  imply.  The  girl 
had  always  been  petted,  and  yet  discontented 
with  her  situation ;  and  had  often  made  com 
plaints  which  had  no  real  foundation,  and  which 
in  brighter  moods  she  was  likely  to  repudiate. 
And  this  night  Andrew,  instead  of  her  Aunt 
Kilgour,  was  the  object  of  her  dissatisfaction  — 
that  would  be  all.  To-morrow  she  would  be 
complaining  to  Andrew  of  her  aunt's  hard  treat 
ment  of  her,  and  Andrew  would  be  whispering 
of  future  happiness  in  her  ears. 

Upon  the  whole,  therefore,  Christina  thought 

it  would  be  cruel  and  foolish  to  tell  her  brother 

a  word  of  what  Sophy  had  said.     Why  should 

she  disturb  his  serene  faith  in  the  girl  so  dear 

18 


CHRISTINA   AND   ANDREW 

to  him,  until  there  was  some  more  evident 
reason  to  do  so?  He  was,  as  his  mother  said, 
"  very  touchy  "  about  Sophy,  being  well  aware 
that  the  village  did  not  approve  of  the  changes 
in  her  dress,  and  of  those  little  reluctances 
and  reserves  in  her  behaviour,  which  had  sprung 
up  inevitably  amid  the  refinements  and  wider 
acquaintances  of  town  life. 

"  And  so  many  things  happen  as  the  clock 
goes  round,"  she  thought.  "  Braelands  may 
say  or  do  something  that  will  put  him  out  of 
favour.  Or  he  may  take  himself  off  to  a  foreign 
country  —  he  is  gey  fond  of  France  and  Ger 
many  too  —  and  Goodness  knows  !  he  will  never 
be  missed  in  Fifeshire.  Or  them  behind  may 
sort  what  flesh  and  blood  cannot  manage ;  so  I 
will  keep  a  close  mouth  anent  the  matter.  One 
may  think  what  one  dare  not  say;  for  words, 
once  spoken,  cannot  be  wiped  out  with  a  sponge 
—  and  more  's  the  pity  !  " 

Christina  had  also  reached  a  crisis  in  her  own 
life,  —  a  crisis  so  important,  that  it  quite  excused 
the  apparent  readiness  with  which  she  dismissed 
Sophy's  strange  confidence.  For  the  feeling 
between  Jamie  Logan  and  herself  had  grown  to 
expression,  and  she  was  well  aware  that  what 
had  hitherto  been  in  a  large  measure  secret  and 
private  to  themselves,  had  this  night  become 
evident  to  others.  And  she  was  not  sure  how 
19 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

Jamie  would  be  received.  Andrew  had  saved 
his  life  in  a  sudden  storm,  and  brought  him  to 
the  Binnie  cottage  until  he  should  be  able  to 
return  to  his  own  place.  But  instead  of  going 
away,  he  had  hired  his  time  for  the  herring 
season  to  a  Pittendurie  fisherman ;  and  every 
spare  hour  had  found  him  at  the  Binnie  cottage, 
wooing  the  handsome  Christina. 

The  village  was  not  unanimously  in  his  favour. 
No  one  could  say  anything  against  Jamie  Logan  ; 
but  he  was  a  stranger,  and  that  fact  was  hard 
to  get  over.  A  man  must  serve  a  very  strict 
and  long  probation  to  be  adopted  into  a  Fife 
fishing  community,  and  it  was  considered  "  very 
upsetting  "  for  an  unkent  man  to  be  looking  up 
to  the  like  of  Christina  Binnie,  —  a  lass  whose 
forbears  had  been  in  Pittendurie  beyond  the 
memory  or  the  tradition  of  its  inhabitants. 

Janet  also  was  not  quite  satisfied;  and  Chris 
tina  knew  this.  She  expected  her  daughter  to 
marry  a  fisherman,  but  at  least  one  who  owned 
his  share  in  a  good  boat,  and  who  had  a  house  to 
take  a  wife  to.  This  strange  lad  was  handsome 
and  good-tempered ;  but,  as  she  reflected,  and 
not  unfrequently  said,  "good  looks  and  a  laugh 
and  a  song,  are  not  things  to  lippen  to  for  house 
keeping."  So,  on  the  whole,  Christina  had  just 
the  same  doubts  and  anxieties  as  might  trouble 
a  fine  lady  of  family  and  wealth,  who  had  fallen 

20 


CHRISTINA  AND   ANDREW 

in  love  with  some  handsome  fellow  whom  her 
relatives  were  uncertain  about  favouring. 

A  week  after  Sophy's  visit,  however,  Jamie 
found  the  unconquerable  hour  in  which  every 
true  love  comes  to  its  blossoming.  It  was  the 
Sabbath  night,  and  a  great  peace  was  over  the 
village,  The  men  sat  at  their  doors  talking  in 
monosyllables  to  their  wives  and  mates ;  the 
children  were  asleep ;  and  the  full  ocean  break 
ing  and  tinkling  upon  the  shingly  coast.  They 
had  been  at  kirk  together  in  the  afternoon,  and 
Jamie  had  taken  tea  with  the  Binnies  after  the 
service.  Then  Andrew  had  gone  to  see  Sophy, 
and  Janet  to  help  a  neighbour  with  a  sick  hus 
band  ;  so  Jamie,  left  with  Christina,  had  seized 
gladly  his  opportunity  to  teach  her  the  secret 
of  her  own  heart. 

Sitting  on  the  lonely  rocks,  with  the  moonlit 
sea  at  their  feet,  they  had  confessed  to  each 
other  how  sweet  it  was  to  love.  And  the  plans 
growing  out  of  this  confession,  though  humble 
enough,  were  full  of  strange  hope  and  happy 
dreaming  to  Christina.  For  Jamie  had  begged 
her  to  become  his  wife  as  soon  as  he  got  his 
promised  berth  on  the  great  Scotch  line,  and 
this  event  would  compel  her  to  leave  Pittendurie 
and  make  her  home  in  Glasgow,  —  two  facts, 
simply  stupendous  to  the  fisher-girl,  who  had 
never  been  twenty  miles  from  her  home,  and 

21 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

to  whom  all  life  outside  the  elementary  cus 
toms  of  Pittendurie  was  wonderful  and  a  little 
frightsome. 

But  she  put  her  hand  in  Jamie's  hand,  and  felt 
his  love  sufficient  for  whatever  love  might  bring 
or  demand.  Any  spot  on  earth  would  be 
heaven  to  her  with  him,  and  for  him;  and  she 
told  him  so,  and  was  answered  as  women  love  to 
be  answered,  with  a  kiss  that  was  the  sweet 
ness  and  confidence  of  all  vows  and  promises. 
Among  these  simple,  straight-forward  people, 
there  are  no  secrecies  in  love  affairs  ;  and  the 
first  thing  Jamie  did  was  to  return  to  the  cot 
tage  with  Christina  to  make  known  the  engage 
ment  they  had  entered  into. 

They  met  Andrew  on  the  sands.  He  had 
been  disappointed.  Sophy  had  gone  out  with  a 
friend,  and  her  aunt  had  seemed  annoyed  and 
had  not  asked  him  to  wait.  He  was  counting 
up  in  his  mind  how  often  this  thing  had  hap 
pened  lately,  and  was  conscious  of  an  unhappy 
sense  of  doubt  and  unkindness  which  was  en 
tirely  new  to  him.  But  when  Christina  stepped 
to  his  side,  and  Jamie  said  frankly,  "  Andrew, 
your  dear  sweet  sister  loves  me,  and  has  prom 
ised  to  be  my  wife,  and  I  hope  you  will  give  us 
the  love  and  favour  we  are  seeking,"  Andrew 
looked  tenderly  into  his  sister's  face,  and  their 
smiles  met  and  seemed  to  kiss  each  other.  And 
22 


CHRISTINA   AND   ANDREW 

he  took  her  hand  between  his  own  hands,  and 
then  put  it  into  Jamie's. 

"  You  shall  be  a  brother  to  me,  Jamie,"  he 
said  ;  "  and  we  will  stand  together  always,  for 
the  sake  of  our  bonnie  Christina."  And  Jamie 
could  not  speak  for  happiness;  but  the  three 
went  forward  with  shining  eyes  and  linked 
hands,  and  Andrew  forgot  his  own  fret  and  dis 
appointment,  in  the  joy  of  his  sister's  betrothal. 

Janet  came  home  as  they  sat  in  the  moonlight 
outside  the  cottage.  "  Come  into  the  house," 
she  cried,  with  a  pretense  of  anger.  "  It  is  high 
time  for  folk  who  have  honest  work  for  the  morn 
to  be  sleeping.  What  hour  will  you  get  to  the 
week's  work,  I  wonder,  Christina?  If  I  leave  the 
fireside  for  a  minute  or  two,  everything  stops 
but  daffing  till  I  get  back  again.  What  for  are 
you  sitting  so  late?  " 

"There  is  a  good  reason,  Mother,"  said 
Andrew,  as  he  rose  and  with  Jamie  and  Chris 
tina  went  into  the  cottage.  "  Here  is  our 
Christina  been  trysting  herself  to  Jamie,  and  I 
have  been  giving  them  some  good  advice." 

"  Good  advice  !  "  laughed  Janet.  "  Between 
you  and  Jamie  Logan,  it  is  the  blind  leading  the 
blind,  and  nothing  better.  One  would  think 
there  was  no  other  duty  in  life  than  trysting 
and  marrying.  I  have  just  heard  tell  of  Flora 
Thompson  and  George  Buchan,  and  now  it  is 
23 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

Christina  Binnie  and  Jamie  Logan.  The  world 
is  given  up,  I  think,  to  this  weary  lad  and  lass 
business." 

But  Janet's  words  belied  her  voice  and  her 
benign  face.  She  was  really  one  of  those 
delightful  women  who  are  "  easily  persuaded," 
and  who  readily  accept  whatever  is,  as  right. 
For  she  had  naturally  one  of  the  healthiest  of 
human  souls;  besides  which,  years  had  brought 
her  that  tender  sagacity  and  gentleness,  which 
does  not  often  come  until  the  head  is  gray  and 
the  brow  furrowed.  So,  though  her  words  were 
fretful,  they  were  negatived  by  her  beaming 
smile,  and  by  the  motherly  fashion  in  which  she 
drew  Christina  to  her  side  and  held  out  her 
hand  to  Jamie. 

"You  are  a  pair  of  foolish  bairns,"  she  said; 
"  and  you  little  know  what  will  betide  you  both." 

"  Nothing  but  love  and  happiness,  Mother," 
answered  Jamie. 

"  Well,  well !  look  for  good,  and  have  good. 
I  will  not  be  one  to  ask  after  evil  for  you.  But 
mind  one  thing,  Jamie,  you  are  marrying  a 
woman,  and  not  an  angel.  And,  Christina,  if 
you  trust  to  any  man,  don't  expect  over  much 
of  him;  the  very  best  of  them  will  stumble 
once  in  a  while." 

Then  she  drew  forward  the  table,  and  put  on 
the  kettle  and  brewed  some  todcly,  and  set  it 
24 


CHRISTINA  AND   ANDREW 

out  with  toasted  cake  and  cheese,  and  so  drank, 
with  cheerful  moderation,  to  the  health  and 
happiness  of  the  newly-promised  lovers.  And 
afterwards  "  the  books "  were  opened,  and 
Andrew,  who  was  the  priest  of  the  family,  asked 
the  blessing  of  the  Infinite  One  on  all  its  rela 
tionships.  Then  the  happiness  that  had  been 
full  of  smiles  and  words  became  too  deep  for 
such  expression ;  and  they  clasped  hands  and 
kissed  each  other  "  good  night "  in  a  silence, 
that  was  too  sweetly  solemn  and  full  of  feeling 
for  the  translation  of  mere  language. 

Before  the  morning  light,  Mistress  Binnie 
had  fully  persuaded  herself  that  Christina  was 
going  to  make  an  unusually  prosperous  mar 
riage.  All  her  doubts  had  fled.  Jamie  had 
spoken  out  like  a  man ;  he  had  the  best  of  pros 
pects,  and  the  wedding  was  likely  to  be  some 
thing  beyond  a  simple  fisherman's  bridal.  She 
could  hardly  wait  until  the  day's  work  was  over, 
and  the  evening  far  enough  advanced  for  a 
gossiping  call  on  her  crony,  Marget  Roy. 
Last  night  she  had  fancied  Marget  told  her  of 
Flora  Thompson's  betrothal  with  an  air  of  pity 
for  Christina ;  there  was  now  a  delightful  retalia 
tion  in  her  power.  But  she  put  on  an  expres 
sion  of  dignified  resignation,  rather  than  one  of 
pleasure,  when  she  made  known  the  fact  of 
Christina's  approaching  marriage. 
25 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  tell  of  it,"  said  Marget 
frankly.  "  Christina  will  make  a  good  wife,  and 
she  will  keep  a  tidy  house,  I  '11  warrant  her." 

"  She  will,  Marget.  And  it  is  a  very  impor 
tant  thing;  far  more  so  than  folks  sometimes 
think.  You  may  put  godliness  into  a  woman 
after  she  is  a  wife,  but  you  can  not  put  clean 
liness  ;  it  will  have  to  be  born  in  her." 

"  And  so  Jamie  Logan  is  to  have  a  berth 
from  the  Hendersons?  That  is  far  beyond  a 
place  in  Lowrie's  herring  boats." 

"I'm  thinking  he  just  stopped  with  Lowrie 
for  the  sake  of  being  near-by  to  Christina.  A 
lad  like  him  need  not  have  spent  good  time 
like  that." 

"Well,  Janet,  it  is  a  good  thing  for  your 
Christina,  and  I  am  glad  of  it." 

"  It  is ;  "  answered  Janet,  with  a  sigh  and  a 
smile.  "The  lad  is  sure  to  get  on;  and  he's  a 
respectable  lad -— a  Fifer  from  Kirkcaldy  — 
handsome  and  well-spoken  of;  and  I  am  think 
ing  the  Line  has  a  big  bargain  in  him,  and  is 
proud  of  it.  Still,  I  'm  feared  for  my  lassie, 
in  such  an  awful,  big,  wicked-like  town  as 
Glasgow." 

"She'll  not  require  to  take  the  whole  town 
in.     She  will  have  her  Bible,  and  her  kirk,  and 
her  own  man.     There   is  nothing  to  fear  you. 
Christina  has  her  five  senses." 
26 


CHRISTINA  AND   ANDREW 

"No  doubt  And  she  is  to  have  a  floor  of 
her  own  and  all  things  convenient;  so  .there  is 
comfort  and  safety  in  the  like  of  that." 

41  What  for  are  you  worrying  yourself  then?  " 

"  There 's  contingencies,  Marget,  —  contingen 
cies.  And  you  know  Christina  is  my  one  lassie, 
and  I  am  sore  to  lose  her.  But  'lack  a  day !  we 
cannot  stop  the  clock.  And  marriage  is  like 
death  —  it  is  what  we  must  all  come  to." 

"  Well  Janet,  your  Christina  has  been  long 
spared  from  it.  She  '11  be  past  twenty,  I  'm 
thinking." 

"  Christina  has  had  her  offers,  Marget.  But 
what  will  you?  We  must  all  wait  for  the  right 
man,  or  go  to  the  de'il  with  the  wrong  one." 

Thus  the  conversation  went  on,  until  Janet 
had  exhausted  all  the  advantages  and  possibili 
ties  that  were  incident  to  Christina's  good  for 
tune.  And  perhaps  it  was  out  of  a  little  feeling 
of  weariness  of  the  theme,  that  Marget  finally 
reminded  her  friend  that  she  would  be  "  lonely 
enough  wanting  her  daughter,"  adding,  "  I  was 
hearing  too,  that  Andrew  is  not  to  be  kept  single 
much  longer;  and  it  will  be  what  no  one  ex 
pects  if  Sophy  Traill  ever  fills  Christina's 
shoes." 

"  Sophy  is  well  enough,"  answered  Janet 
with  a  touch  of  pride.  "  She  suits  Andrew, 
and  it  is  Andrew  that  has  to  live  with  her." 

27 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"And  you  too,  Janet?  " 

"  Not  I !  Andrew  is  to  build  his  own  big- 
ging.  I  have  the  life  rent  of  mine.  But  I  shall 
be  a  deal  in  Glasgow  myself.  Jamie  has  his 
heart  fairly  set  on  that." 

She  made  this  statement  with  an  air  of  pride- 
ful  satisfaction  that  was  irritating  to  Mistress 
Roy;  and  she  was  not  inclined  to  let  Janet 
enter  anew  into  a  description  of  all  the  fine 
sights  she  was  to  see,  the  grand  guns  of 
preachers  she  was  to  hear,  and  the  trips  to 
Greenock  and  Rothesay,  which  Jamie  said 
"  would  just  fall  naturally  in  the  way  of  their 
ordinary  life."  So  Marget  showed  such  a  hurry 
about  her  household  affairs  as  made  Janet  un 
comfortable,  and  she  rose  with  a  little  offence 
and  said  abruptly:  — 

"  I  must  be  going.  I  have  the  kirkyard  to 
pass;  and  between  the  day  and  the  dark  it  is 
but  a  mournful  spot." 

"It  is  that,"  answered  Marget.  "Folks 
should  not  be  on  the  road  when  the  bodiless 
walk.  They  might  be  in  their  way,  and  so  get 
ill  to  themselves." 

"  Then  good  night,  and  good  befall  you ;  " 
but  in  spite  of  the  benediction,  Janet  felt  nettled 
at  her  friend's  sudden  lack  of  interest. 

"  It  was  a  spat  of  envy  no  doubt,"  she 
thought;  "but  Lord's  sake!  envy  is  the  most 
28 


CHRISTINA   AND   ANDREW 

insinuating  vice  of  the  lot  of  them.  It  cannot 
behave  itself  for  an  hour  at  a  time.  But  I  'm 
not  caring !  it  is  better  to  be  envied  than 
pitied." 

These  reflections  kept  away  the  thought  and 
fear  of  the  "  bodiless,"  and  she  passed  the  kirk- 
yard  without  being  mindful  of  their  proximity; 
the  corning  wedding,  and  the  inevitable  changes 
it  would  bring,  filling  her  heart  with  all  kinds  of 
maternal  anxieties,  which  in  solitude  would  not 
be  put  aside  for  all  the  promised  pride  and 
tclat  of  the  event.  As  she  approached  the 
cottage,  she  met  Jamie  and  Christina  coming 
down  the  cliff-side  together,  and  she  cried,  "  Is 
that  you,  Jamie?  " 

"  As  far  as  I  know,  it 's  myself,  Mother," 
answered  Jamie. 

"  Then  turn  back,  and  I  '11  get  you  a  mouth 
ful  of  bread  and  cheese.  You  '11  be  wanting  it, 
no  doubt;  for  love  is  but  cold  porridge  to  a 
man  that  has  to  pull  on  the  nets  all  night." 

"  You  have  spoken  the  day  after  the  fair, 
Mother,"  answered  Jamie.  "  Christina  has 
looked  well  to  me,  and  I  am  bound  for  the 
boats." 

"  Well,  well,  your  way  be  it." 

Then  Christina  turned  back  with  her  mother, 
and  they  went  silently  back  to  the  cottage,  their 
hearts    being    busy   with   the    new    hopes    and 
29 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

happiness  that  had  come  into  their  hitherto 
uneventful  lives.  But  reticence  between  this 
mother  and  daughter  was  not  long  possible ; 
they  were  too  much  one  to  have  reserves ;  and 
neither  being  sleepy,  they  soon  began  to  talk 
over  again  what  they  had  discussed  a  hundred 
times  before  —  the  wedding  dress,  and  the  wed 
ding  feast,  and  the  napery  and  plenishing 
Christina  was  to  have  for  her  own  home.  They 
sat  on  the  hearth,  before  the  bit  of  fire  which 
was  always  necessary  in  that  exposed  and  windy 
situation;  but  the  door  stood  open,  and  the 
moon  filled  the  little  room  with  its  placid  and 
confidential  light.  So  it  is  no  wonder,  as  they 
sat  talking  and  vaguely  wondering  at  Andrew's 
absence,  Christina  should  tell  her  mother  what 
Sophy  had  said  about  Archie  Braelands. 

Janet  listened  with  a  dour  face.  For  a  moment 
she  was  glad ;  then  she  lifted  the  poker,  and 
struck  a  block  of  coal  into  a  score  of  pieces, 
and  with  the  blow  scattered  the  unkind,  selfish 
thoughts  which  had  sprung  up  in  her  heart. 

"  It  is  what  I  expected,"  she  answered. 
"  Just  what  I  expected,  Christina.  A  lassie 
dressed  up  in  muslin,  and  ribbons,  and  artificial 
roses,  is  n't  the  kind  of  a  wife  a  fisherman  wants 
—  and  sooner  or  later,  like  goes  to  like.  I  am 
not  blaming  Sophy.  She  has  tried  hard  to  be 
faithful  to  Andrew,  but  what  then?  Nothing 
30 


CHRISTINA  AND   ANDREW 

happens  for  nothing;  and  it  will  be  a  good 
thing  for  Andrew  if  Sophy  leaves  him;  a  good 
thing  for  Sophy  too,  I'm  thinking;  and  better 
is  better,  whatever  comes  or  goes." 

"  But  Andrew  will  fret  himself  sorely." 

"He  will;  no  doubt  of  that.  But  Andrew 
has  a  good  heart,  and  a  good  heart  breaks  bad 
fortune.  Say  nothing  at  all  to  him.  He  is  wise 
enough  to  guide  himself;  though  God  knows! 
even  the  wisest  of  men  will  have  a  fool  in  his 
sleeve  sometimes." 

"  Would  there  be  any  good  in  a  word  of 
warning?  Just  to  prepare  him  for  the  sorrow 
that  is  on  the  road." 

"  There  would  be  no  sense  in  the  like  of  it.  If 
Andrew  is  to  get  the  fling  and  the  buffet,  he  will 
take  it  better  from  Sophy  than  from  any  other 
body.  Let  be,  Christina.  And  maybe  things 
will  take  a  turn  for  the  dear  lad  yet.  Hope  for 
it  anyhow.  Hope  is  as  cheap  as  despair." 

"  Folks  will  be  talking  anon." 

41  They  are  talking  already.  Do  you  think 
that  I  did  not  hear  all  this  clash  and  clavers 
before?  Lucky  Sims,  and  Marget  Roy,  and 
every  fish-wife  in  Pittendurie,  know  both  the 
beginning  and  the  end  of  it.  They  have  seen 
this,  and  they  have  heard  that,  and  they  think 
the  very  worst  that  can  be ;  you  may  be  sure  of 
that." 

31 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"  I  'm  thinking  no  wrong  of  Sophy." 

"  Nor  I.  The  first  calamity  is  to  be  born  a 
woman ;  it  sets  the  door  open  for  every  other 
sorrow — and  the  more  so,  if  the  poor  lassie  is 
bonnie  and  alone  in  the  world.  Sophy  is  not 
to  blame  ;  it  is  Andrew  that  is  in  the  fault." 

"  How  can  you  say  such  a  thing  as  that, 
Mother?" 

"  I  '11  tell  you  how.  Andrew  has  been  that 
set  on  having  a  house  for  his  wife,  that  he  has 
just  lost  the  wife  while  he  was  saving  the  siller 
for  the  house.  I  have  told  him,  and  better  told 
him  to  bring  Sophy  here;  but  nothing  but 
having  her  all  to  himself  will  he  hear  tell  of. 
It  is  pure,  wicked  selfishness  in  the  lad  !  He 
simply  cannot  thole  her  to  give  look  or  word 
to  any  one  but  himself.  Perfect  scand'lous  sel 
fishness  !  That  is  where  all  the  trouble  has 
come  from." 

"  Whist,  Mother  !  He  is  most  at  the  door 
step.  That  is  Andrew's  foot,  or  I  am  much 
mista'en." 

"  Then  I  '11  away  to  Lizzie  Robertson's  for  an 
hour.  My  heart  is  knocking  at  my  lips,  and 
I  '11  be  saying  what  I  would  give  my  last  bawbee 
to  unsay.  Keep  a  calm  sough,  Christina." 

"You  need  not  tell  me  that,  Mother." 

"  Just  let  Andrew  do  the  talking,  and  you  '11 
be  all  right.  It  is  easy  to  put  him  out  about 
32 


CHRISTINA  AND   ANDREW 

Sophy,  and  then  to  conic  to  words.  Better 
keep  peace  than  make  peace." 

She  lifted  the  stocking  she  was  knitting,  and 
passed  out  of  one  door  as  Andrew  came  in  at 
the  other.  He  entered  with  that  air  of  strength 
and  capability  so  dear  to  the  women  of  a  house 
hold.  He  had  on  his  kirk  suit,  and  Christina 
thought,  as  he  sat  down  by  the  open  window, 
how  much  handsomer  he  looked  in  his  blue 
guernsey  and  fishing  cap. 

"You'll  be  needing  a  mouthful  and  a  cup  of 
tea,  Andrew?"  she  asked. 

Andrew  shook  his  head  and  answered  pleas 
antly,  "  Not  I,  Christina.  I  had  my  tea  with 
Sophy.  Where  is  mother?" 

"  She  is  gone  to  'Lizzie  Robertson's  for  an 
hour.  Her  man  is  yet  very  badly  off.  She  said 
she  would  sit  with  him  till  the  night  turned. 
Lizzie  is  most  worn  out,  I  'm  sure,  by  this  time." 

"  Where  is  Jamie?  " 

"  He  said  he  was  going  to  the  fishing.  He 
will  have  caught  his  boat,  or  he  would  have 
been  back  here  again  by  this  hour." 

"Then  we  are  alone?  And  like  to  be  for  an 
hour?  eh,  Christina?  " 

"  There  will  be  no  one  here  till  mother  comes 
at  the  turn  of  the  night.  What  for  arc  you  ask 
ing  the  like  of  them  questions,  Andrew?" 

"  Because  I  have  been  seeking  this  hour.  I 
3  33 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

have  things  to  tell  you,  Christina,  that  must  never 
go  beyond  yourself ;  no,  not  even  to  mother, 
unless  the  time  comes  for  it.  I  am  not  going 
to  ask  you  to  give  me  your  word  or  promise. 
You  are  Christina  Binnie,  and  that  is  enough." 

"  I  should  say  so.  The  man  or  woman  who 
promises  with  an  oath  is  not  to  be  trusted. 
There  is  you  and  me,  and  God  for  our  witness. 
What  ever  you  have  to  say,  the  hearer  and  the 
witness  is  sufficient." 

"  I  know  that.  Christina,  I  have  been  this 
day  to  Edinburgh,  and  I  have  brought  home 
from  the  bank  six  hundred  pounds." 

"  Six  hundred  pounds,  Andrew !  It  is  not 
believable." 

"  Whist,  woman  !  I  have  six  hundred  pounds 
in  my  breast  pocket,  and  I  have  siller  in  the 
house  beside.  I  have  sold  my  share  in  the 
'  Sure-Giver!  and  I  have  been  saving  money 
ever  since  I  put  on  my  first  sea-boots." 

"  I  have  always  thought  that  saving  money 
was  your  great  fault,  Andrew." 

"  I  know.  I  know  it  myself  only  too  well. 
Many 's  the  Sabbath  day  I  have  been  only  a 
bawbee  Christian,  when  I  ought  to  have  put 
a  shilling  in  the  plate.  But  I  just  could  not 
help  it." 

u  Yes,  you  could." 

"  Tell  me  how,  then." 
34 


CHRISTINA   AND   ANDREW 

"  Just  try  and  believe  that  you  are  putting 
your  collection  into  the  hand  of  God  Almighty, 
and  not  into  a  siller  plate.  Then  you  will  put 
the  shilling  down  and  not  the  bawbee." 

"Perhaps.  The  thought  is  not  a  new  one  to 
me,  and  often  I  have  forced  myself  to  give  a 
white  shilling  instead  of  a  penny-bit  at  the  kirk 
•  door,  just  to  get  the  better  of  the  de'il  once  in  a 
while.  But  for  all  that  I  know  right  well  that 
saving  siller  is  my  besetting  sin.  However,  I 
have  been  saving  for  a  purpose,  and  now  I  am 
most  ready  to  take  the  desire  of  my  heart" 

"It  is  a  good  desire;  I  am  sure  of  that, 
Andrew." 

"  I  think  it  is ;  a  very  good  one.  What  do 
you  say  to  this?  I  am  going  to  put  all  my  siller 
in  a  carrying  steamer  —  one  of  the  Red-White 
fleet.  And  more  to  it.  I  am  to  be  skipper, 
and  sail  her  from  the  North  Sea  to  London." 

"  Will  she  be  a  big  boat,  Andrew?  " 

"  She  will  carry  three  thousand  '  trunks  '  of 
fish  in  her  ice  chambers.  What  do  you  think 
of  that?" 

"  I  am  perfectly  dazzled  and  dumbfoundered 
with  the  thought  of  it.  You  will  be  a  man  of 
some  weight  in  the  world,  when  that  comes  to 
pass." 

"  I  will  be  Captain  Binnie,  of  the  North  Sea 
fleet,  and  Sophy  will  have  reason  enough  for  her 
35 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

muslins,  and  ribbons,  and  trinkum-trankums  — 
God  bless  her !  " 

"  You  are  a  far  forecasting  man,  Andrew." 

"  I  have  been  able  to  clear  my  day  and  my 
way,  by  the  help  of  Providence,  so  far,"  said 
Andrew,  with  a  pious  reservation;  "just  as  my 
decent  kirk-going  father  was  before  me.  But 
that  is  neither  here  nor  there,  and  please  God, 
this  will  be  a  monumental  year  in  my  life." 

"  It  will  that.  To  get  the  ship  and  the  wife 
you  want,  within  its  twelve  bounds,  is  a  blessing 
beyond  ordinary.  I  am  proud  to  hear  tell  of 
such  good  fortune  coming  your  way,  Andrew." 

"Ay;  I  knew  you  would.  But  I  have  the 
siller,  and  I  have  the  skill,  and  why  should  n't  I 
lift  myself  a  bit?" 

"And  Sophy  with  you?  Sophy  will  be  an 
ornament  to  any  place  you  lift  her  to.  And 
you  may  come  to  own  a  fishing  fleet  yourself 
some  day,  Andrew  !  " 

"  I  am  thinking  of  it, "  he  answered,  with  the 
air  of  a  man  who  feels  himself  master  of  his 
destiny.  "  But  come  ben  the  house  with  me, 
Christina.  I  have  something  to  show  you." 

So  they  went  together  into  an  inner  room,  and 
Andrew  moved  aside  a  heavy  chest  of  drawers 
which  stood  against  the  wall.  Then  he  lifted  a 
short  plank  beneath  them,  and  putting  his  arm 
far  under  the  flooring,  he  pulled  forth  a  tin  box. 


CHRISTINA   AND   ANDREW 

The  key  to  it  was  in  the  leather  purse  in  his 
breast  pocket,  and  there  was  a  little  tantalizing 
delay  in  its  opening.  But  when  the  lid  was  lifted, 
Christina  saw  a  hoard  of  golden  sovereigns,  and 
a  large  roll  of  Bank  of  England  bills.  Without 
a  word  Andrew  added  the  money  in  his  pocket 
to  this  treasured  store,  and  in  an  equal  silence 
the  flooring  and  drawers  were  replaced ;  and 
then,  without  a  word,  the  brother  and  sister  left 
the  room  together. 

There  was  however  a  look  of  exultation  on 
Christina's  face,  and  when  Andrew  said  "  You 
understand  now,  Christina?"  she  answered  in  a 
voice  full  of  tender  pride. 

"  I  have  seen.  And  I  am  sure  that  Andrew 
Binnie  is  not  the  man  to  be  moving  without 
knowing  the  way  he  is  going  to  take." 

"  I  am  not  moving  at  all,  Christina,  for  three 
months  or  perhaps  longer.  The  ship  I  want  is 
in  dry  dock  until  the  winter;  and  it  is  all  tHis 
wealth  of  siller  that  I  am  anxious  about.  If  I 
should  go  to  the  fishing  some  night,  and  never 
come  back,  it  would  be  the  same  as  if  it  went  to 
the  bottom  of  the  sea  with  me,  not  a  soul  but 
myself  knowing  it  was  there." 

"  But  not  now,  Andrew.  You  be  to  tell  me 
what  I  am  to  do  if  the  like  of  that  should 
happen ;  and  your  wish  will  be  as  the  law  of  God 
to  me." 

37 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  I  am  sure  of  that,  Christina.  Take  heed 
then.  If  I  should  go  out  some  night  and  the 
sea  should  get  me,  as  it  gets  many  better  men, 
then  you  will  lift  the  flooring,  and  take  the  money 
out  of  hiding.  And  you  will  give  Sophy  Traill 
one  half  of  all  there  is.  The  other  half  is  for 
mother  and  yourself.  And  you  will  do  no  other 
way  with  a  single  bawbee,  or  the  Lord  will  set 
His  face  against  it." 

"  I  will  do  just  what  you  tell  me." 

"  I  know  it.  To  think  different,  would  be  just 
incredible  nonsense.  That  is  for  the  possibili 
ties,  Christina.  For  the  days  that  are  coming 
and  going,  I  charge  you,  Christina  Binnie,  never 
to  name  to  mortal  creature  the  whereabouts  of 
the  money  I  have  shown  you." 

"  Your  words  are  in  my  heart,  Andrew.  They 
will  never  pass  my  lips." 

"  Then  that  is  enough  of  the  siller.  I  have 
had  a  happy  day  with  Sophy,  and  O  the  grace 
of  the  lassie !  And  the  sweet  innocence  and 
lovesomeness  of  her  pretty  ways  !  She  is  bud 
ding  into  a  very  rose  of  beauty !  I  bought  her 
a  ring  with  a  shining  stone  in  it,  and  a  gold 
brooch,  and  a  bonnie  piece  of  white  muslin  with 
the  lace  for  the  trimming  of  it;  and  the  joy  of 
the  little  beauty  set  me  laughing  with  delight. 
I  would  not  call  the  Queen  my  cousin,  this 
night." 

38 


CHRISTINA  AND   ANDREW 

"  Sophy  ought  to  love  you  with  all  her  heart 
and  soul,  Andrew." 

"  She  does.  She  has  arled  her  heart  and 
band  to  me.  I  thank  The  Best  for  this  great 
mercy." 

"  And  you  can  trust  her  without  a  doubt,  dear 
lad?" 

"  I  have  as  much  faith  in  Sophy  Traill,  as  I 
have  in  my  Bible." 

"  That  is  the  way  to  trust  It  is  the  way  I 
trust  Jamie.  But  you'll  mind  how  ready  bad 
hearts  and  ill  tongues  are  to  give  you  a  sense  of 
suspicion.  So  you  '11  not  heed  a  word  of  that 
kind,  Andrew?" 

"  Not  one.  The  like  of  such  folk  cannot  give 
me  a  moment's  trouble  —  there  was  Kirsty 
Johnston —  " 

"  You  may  put  Kirsty  Johnston,  and  all  she 
says  to  the  wall." 

"I'm  doing  it;  but  she  called  after  me  this 
very  evening,  'take  care  of  yourself,  Andrew 
Binnie.'  '  And  what  for,  Mistress?  '  I  asked.  '  A 
beauty  is  hard  to  catch  and  worse  to  keep,'  she 
answered ;  and  then  the  laugh  of  her !  But  I 
did  n't  mind  it,  not  I ;  and  I  did  n't  give  her 
word  or  look  in  reply;  for  well  I  know  that 
women's  tongues  cannot  be  stopped,  not  even 
by  the  Fourth  Commandment." 

Then  Andrew  sat  down  and  was  silent,  for  a 
39 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

happiness  like  his  is  felt,  and  not  expressed. 
And  Christina  moved  softly  about,  preparing  the 
frugal  supper,  and  thinking  about  her  lover  in 
the  fishing  boats,  until,  the  table  being  spread, 
Andrew  drew  his  chair  close  to  his  sister's  chair, 
and  spreading  forth  his  hands  ere  he  sat  down, 
said  solemnly :  — 

"  This  is  the  change  of  Thy  Right  Hand,  O 
Than  Most  High!  Thou  art  strong  to  strengthen  ; 
gracious  to  help  ;  ready  to  better ;  mighty  to  save. 
Amen  !  " 

It  was  the  prayer  of  his  fathers  for  centuries  — 
the  prayer  they  had  used  in  all  times  of  their  joy 
and  sorrow ;  the  prayer  that  had  grown  in  his 
own  heart  from  his  birth,  and  been  recorded  for 
ever  in  the  sagas  of  his  mother's  people. 


40 


CHAPTER   III 
THE  AILING  HEART 

NOT  often  in  her  life  had  Christina  felt  so 
happy  as  she  did  at  this  fortunate  hour.  Two 
things  especially  made  her  heart  sing  for  joy; 
one  was  the  fact  that  Jamie  had  never  been  so 
tender,  so  full  of  joyful  anticipation,  so  proud 
of  his  love  and  his  future,  as  in  their  interview 
of  that  evening.  The  very  thought  of  his  beauty 
and  goodness  made  her  walk  unconsciously  to 
the  door,  and  look  over  the  sea  towards  the  fish 
ing-grounds,  where  he  was  doubtless  working  at 
the  nets,  and  thinking  of  her.  And  next  to  this 
intensely  personal  cause  of  happiness,  was  the 
fact  that  of  all  his  mates,  and  even  before 
his  mother  or  Sophy,  Andrew  had  chosen  her 
for  his  confidant.  She  loved  her  brother  very 
much,  and  she  respected  him  with  an  equal 
fervour.  Few  men,  in  Christina's  opinion,  were 
able,  to  stand  in  Andrew  Binnie's  shoes,  and 
she  felt,  as  she  glanced  at  his  strong,  thoughtful 
face,  that  he  was  a  brother  to  be  very  proud  of. 

He  sat  on  the  hearth  with  his  arms  crossed 
above  his  head,  and  a  sweet,  grave  smile  irra- 
41 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

dialing  his  strong  countenance.  Christina  knew 
that  he  was  thinking  of  Sophy,  and  as  soon  as 
she  had  spread  the  frugal  meal,  and  they  had 
sat  down  to  their  cakes  and  cheese,  Andrew 
began  to  talk  of  her,  He  seemed  to  have  dis 
missed  absolutely  the  thought  of  the  hidden 
money,  and  to  be  wholly  occupied  with  mem 
ories  of  his  love.  And  as  he  talked  of  her,  his 
face  grew  vivid  and  tender,  and  he  spoke  like 
a  poet,  though  he  knew  it  not. 

"  She  is  that  sweet,  Christina,  it  is  like  kissing 
roses  to  kiss  her.  Her  wee  white  hand  on  my 
red  face  is  like  a  lily  leaf.  I  saw  it  in  the  look 
ing-glass,  as  we  sat  at  tea.  And  the  ring,  with 
the  shining  stone,  set  it  finely.  I  am  the  happi 
est  man  in  the  world,  Christina !  " 

"  I  am  glad  with  all  my  heart  for  you,  Andrew, 
and  for  Sophy  too.  It  is  a  grand  thing  to  be 
loved  as  you  love  her." 

"  She  is  the  sweetness  of  all  the  years  that  are 
gone,  and  of  all  that  are  to  come." 

"  And  Sophy  loves  you  as  you  love  her  ?  I 
hope  she  does  that,  my  dear  Andrew." 

4<  She  will  do.  She  will  do !  no  doubt  of  it, 
Christina !  She  is  shy  now,  and  a  bit  frighted 
at  the  thought  of  marriage  —  she  is  such  a  gentle 
little  thing  —  but  I  will  make  her  love  me  ;  yes  I 
will !  I  will  make  her  love  me  as  I  love  her. 
What  for  not?" 

42 


THE   AILING   HEART 

"  To  be  sure.  Love  must  give  and  take 
equal,  to  be  satisfied.  I  know  that  myself.  I 
am  loving  Jamie  just  as  he  loves  me." 

"  He  is  a  bravvly  fine  lad.  Peddie  was  saying 
there  was  n't  a  better  worker,  nor  a  merrier  one, 
in  the  whole  fleet." 

"  A  good  heart  is  always  a  merry  one,  Andrew." 

"  I  'm  not  doubting  it." 

Thus  they  talked  with  kind  mutual  sympathy 
and  confidence ;  and  a  certain  sweet  serenity  and 
glad  composure  spread  through  the  little  room, 
and  the  very  atmosphere  was  full  of  the  peace 
and  hope  of  innocent  love.  But  some  divine 
necessity  of  life  ever  joins  joy  and  sorrow 
together ;  and  even  as  the  brother  and  sister  sat 
speaking  of  their  happiness,  Christina  heard  a 
footstep  that  gave  her  heart  a  shock.  Andrew 
was  talking  of  Sophy,  and  he  was  not  conscious 
of  Jamie's  approach  until  the  lad  entered  the 
house.  His  face  was  flushed,  and  there  was  an 
air  of  excitement  about  him  which  Andrew 
regarded  with  an  instant  displeasure  and  sus 
picion.  He  did  not  answer  Jamie's  greeting, 
but  said  dourly:  — 

"  You  promised  to  take  my  place  in  the  boat 
to-night,  Jamie  Logan  ;  then  what  for  are  you 
here,  at  this  hour?  I  see  one  thing,  and  that  is, 
you  cannot  be  trusted  to." 

"  I  deserve  a  reproof,  Andrew,  for  I  have 
43 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

earned  it,"  answered  Jamie;  and  there  was  an 
air  of  candid  regret  in  his  manner  which  struck 
Christina,  but  which  was  not  obvious  to  Andrew 
as  he  added,  "  I  '11  not  lie  to  you  anent  the 
matter." 

"  You  need  n't.  Nothing  in  life  is  worth  a 
lie." 

"That  may  be,  or  not  be.  But  it  was  just 
this  way.  I  met  an  old  friend  as  I  was  on  my 
way  to  the  boat,  and  he  was  poor,  and  hungry, 
and  thirsty,  and  I  be  to  take  him  to  the  '  public,' 
and  give  him  a  bite  and  a  sup.  Then  the 
whiskey  set  us  talking  of  old  times  and  old 
acquaintances,  and  I  clean  forgot  the  fishing  ; 
and  the  boats  went  away  without  me.  And  that 
is  all  there  is  to  it." 

"  Far  too  much !  Far  too  much !  A  nice 
lad  you  will  be  to  trust  to  in  a  big  ship  full  of 
men  and  women  and  children !  A  glass  of 
whiskey,  and  a  crack  in  the  public  house,  set 
before  your  promised  word  and  your  duty ! 
How  will  I  trust  Christina  to  you?  When  you 
make  Andrew  Binnie  a  promise,  he  expects  you 
to  keep  it.  Don't  forget  that !  It  may  be  of 
some  consequence  to  you  if  you  are  wanting 
his  sister  for  a  wife." 

With  these  words  Andrew  rose,  went  into  his 
own  room  without  a  word  of  good-night,  and 
with  considerable  show  of  annoyance,  closed 
44 


THE   AILING   HEART 

and  bolted  the  door  behind  him.  Jamie  sat 
down  by  Christina,  and  waited  for  her  to  speak. 

But  it  was  not  easy  for  her  to  do  so.  Try  as 
she  would,  she  could  not  show  him  the  love  she 
really  felt.  She  was  troubled  at  his  neglect  of 
duty,  and  so  sorry  that  he,  of  all  others,  should 
have  been  the  one  to  cast  the  first  shadow 
across  the  bright  future  which  she  had  been 
anticipating  before  his  ill-timed  arrival.  It  was 
love  out  of  time  and  season,  and  lacked  the 
savour  and  spontaneity  which  are  the  result  of 
proper  conditions.  Jamie  felt  the  unhappy 
atmosphere,  and  was  offended. 

"  I  'm  not  wanted  here,  it  seems,"  he  said  in 
a  tone  of  injury. 

"  You  are  wanted  in  the  boat,  Jamie ;  that 
is  where  the  fault  lies.  You  should  have 
been  there.  There  is  no  outgait  from  that 
fact." 

"  Well  then,  I  have  said  I  was  sorry.  Is  not 
that  enough?" 

"  For  me,  yes.  But  Andrew  likes  a  man  to 
be  prompt  and  sure  in  business.  It  is  the  only 
way  to  make  money." 

"Make  money!  I  can  make  money  among 
Andrew  Binnie's  feet,  for  all  he  thinks  so  much 
of  himself.  A  friend's  claims  are  before  money- 
making.  I  '11  stand  to  that,  till  all  the  seas  go 
dry." 

45 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  Andrew  has  very  strict  ideas ;  you  must 
have  found  that  out,  Jamie,  and  you  should  not 
go  against  them." 

"  Andrew  is  headstrong  as  the  north-wind. 
He  goes  clear  o  'er  the  bounds  both  sides. 
Everything  is  the  very  worst,  or  the  very  best. 
I  'm  not  denying  I  was  a  bit  wrong,  but  I  con 
sider  I  had  a  good  excuse  for  it." 

"  Is  there  ever  a  good  excuse  for  doing  wrong, 
Jamie?  But  we  will  let  the  affair  drop  out  of 
mind  and  talk.  There  are  pleasanter  things  to 
speak  of,  I  'm  sure." 

But  the  interview  was  a  disappointment. 
Jamie  went  continually  back  to  Andrew's  re 
proof,  and  Christina  herself  seemed  to  be  under 
a  spell.  She  could  not  find  the  gentle  words 
that  would  have  soothed  her  lover,  her  manner 
became  chill  and  silent;  and  Jamie  finally  went 
away,  much  hurt  and  offended.  Yet  she  followed 
him  to  the  door,  and  watched  him  kicking  the 
stones  out  of  his  path  as  he  went  rapidly  down 
the  cliff-side.  And  if  she  had  been  near  enough, 
she  would  have  heard  him  muttering  angrily:  — 

"I'm  not  caring!  I'm  not  caring!  The 
moral  pride  of  they  Binnies  is  ridic'lus  !  One 
would  require  to  be  a  very  saint  to  come  within 
sight  of  them." 

Such  a  wretched  ending  to  an  evening  that 
had  begun  with  so  much  hope  and  love  !  Chris- 


THE   AILING   HEART 

tina  stood  sadly  at  the  open  door  and  watched 
her  lover  across  the  lonely  sands,  and  felt  the 
natural  disappointment  of  the  circumstances. 
Then  the  moon  began  to  rise,  and  when  she 
noticed  this,  she  remembered  how  late  her 
mother  was  away  from  home,  and  a  slight 
uneasiness  crept  into  her  heart.  She  threw  a 
plaid  around  her  head,  and  was  going  to  the 
neighbour's  where  she  expected  to  find  her,  when 
Janet  appeared. 

She  came  up  to  the  cliff  slowly,  and  her  face 
was  far  graver  than  ordinary  when  she  entered 
the  cottage,  and  with  a  pious  ejaculation  threw 
off  her  shawl. 

"What  kept  you  at  all,  Mother?  I  was  just 
going  to  seek  you." 

"  Watty  Robertson  has  won  away  at  last." 

"When  did  he  die?" 

"  He  went  away  with  the  tide.  He  was  called 
just  at  the  turn.  Ah,  Christina,  it  is  loving  and 
dying  all  the  time !  Life  is  love  and  death ; 
for  what  is  our  life?  It  is  even  a  vapour  that 
appeareth  for  a  little  time,  and  then  vanisheth 
away." 

"  But  Watty  was  well  ready  for  the  change, 
Mother?" 

"  He  went  away  with  a  smile.  And  I  staid  by 
poor  Lizzie,  for  I  have  drank  of  the  same  cup, 
and  I  know  how  bitter  was  the  taste  of  it.  Old 
47 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

Elspeth  McDonald  stretched  the  corpse,  and  her 
and  I  had  a  change  of  words;  but  Lizzie  was 
with  me." 

"  What  for  did  you  clash  at  such  a  like 
time?" 

"  She  covered  up  his  face,  and  I  said :  '  Stop 
your  hand,  Elspeth.  Don't  you  go  to  cover 
Watty's  face  now.  He  never  did  ill  to  any  one 
while  he  lived,  and  there's  no  need  to  hide  his 
face  when  he  is  dead.'  And  we  had  a  bit 
stramash  about  it,  for  I  can't  abide  to  hide  up 
the  face  that  is  honest  and  well  loved,  and 
'Lizzie  said  I  was  right,  and  so  Elspeth  went  off 
in  a  tiff." 

"  I  think  there  must  be  '  tiffs  '  floating  about  in 
the  air  to-night.  Jamie  and  Andrew  have  had  a 
falling  out,  and  Jamie  went  away  far  less  than 
pleased  with  me." 

"  What's  to  do  between  them?  " 

"  Jamie  met  with  an  old  friend  who  was 
hungry  and  thirsty,  and  he  went  with  him  to  the 
'  public '  instead  of  going  to  the  boat  for  An 
drew,  as  he  promised  to  do.  You  know  how 
Andrew  feels  about  a  word  broken." 

"  Toots!  Andrew  Binnie  has  a  deal  to  learn 
yet.  You  should  have  told  him  it  was  better  to 
show  mercy,  than  to  stick  at  a  mouthful  of 
words.  Had  you  never  a  soft  answer  to  throw 
at  the  two  fractious  fools?" 


THE   AILING   HEART 

"  How  could  I  interfere?  " 

"  Finely  !  If  you  don't  know  the  right  way  to 
throw  with  a  thrawn  man,  like  Andrew,  and  to 
come  round  a  soft  man,  like  Jamie,  I  'm  sorry 
for  you !  A  woman  with  a  thimble-full  of 
woman-wit  could  ravel  them  both  up  —  ravel 
them  up  like  a  cut  of  worsteds." 

"  Well,  the  day  is  near  over.  The  clock  will 
chap  twelve  in  ten  minutes,  and  I  'm  going  to 
my  bed.  I  'm  feared  you  won't  sleep  much, 
Mother.  You  look  awake  to  your  instep." 

11  Never  mind.  I  have  some  good  thoughts 
for  the  sleepless.  Folks  don't  sleep  well  after 
seeing  a  man  with  wife  and  bairns  round  him 
look  death  and  judgment  in  the  face." 

"But  Watty  looked  at  them  smiling,  you 
said?  " 

"  He  did.  Watty's  religion  went  to  the  bottom 
and  extremity  of  things.  I  '11  be  asking  this 
night  for  grace  to  live  with,  and  then  I  '11  get 
grace  to  die  with  when  my  hour  comes.  You 
need  n't  fash  your  heart  about  me.  Sleeping  or 
waking,  I  am  in  His  charge.  Nor  about  Jamie; 
he  '11  be  all  right  the  morn.  Nor  about  Andrew, 
for  I  '11  tell  him  not  to  make  a  Pharisee  of  him 
self —  he  has  his  own  failing,  and  it  isn't  far  to 
seek." 

And  it  is  likely  Janet  had  her  intended  talk 
with  her  son,  for  nothing  more  was  said  to 
4  49 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

Jamie  about  his  neglect  of  duty;  and  the  little 
cloud  was  but  a  passing  one,  and  soon  blew 
over.  Circumstances  favoured  oblivion.  Chris 
tina's  love  encompassed  both  her  brother  and 
her  lover,  and  Janet's  womanly  tact  turned 
every  shadow  into  sunshine,  and  disarmed  all 
suspicious  or  doubtful  words.  Also,  the  fishing 
season  was  an  unusually  good  one ;  every  man 
was  of  price,  and  few  men  were  better  worth 
their  price  than  Jamie  Logan.  So  an  air  of 
prosperity  and  happiness  filled  each  little  cot 
tage,  and  Andrew  Binnie  was  certainly  saving 
money  —  a  condition  of  affairs  that  always  made 
him  easy  to  live  with. 

As  for  the  women  of  the  village,  they  were  in 
the  early  day  up  to  their  shoulders  in  work,  and  in 
the  more  leisurely  evenings,  they  had  Christina's 
marriage  and  marriage  presents  to  talk  about 
The  girl  had  many  friends  and  relatives  far  and 
near,  and  every  one  remembered  her.  It  was  a 
set  of  china  from  an  aunt  in  Crail,  or  napery 
from  some  cousins  in  Kirkcaldy,  or  quilts  from 
her  father's  folk  in  Largo,  and  so  on,  in  a  very 
charming  monotony.  Now  and  then  a  bit  of 
silver  came,  and  once  a  very  pretty  American 
clock.  And  there  was  not  a  quilt  or  a  table 
cloth,  a  bit  of  china  or  silver,  a  petticoat  or  a 
ribbon,  that  the  whole  village  did  not  examine, 
and  discuss,  and  offer  their  congratulations  over. 
50 


THE  AILING   HEART 

Christina  and  her  mother  quite  enjoyed  this 
popular  manifestation  of  interest,  and  Jamie  was 
not  at  all  averse  to  the  good-natured  familiar 
ity.  And  though  Andrew  withdrew  from  such 
occasions,  and  appeared  to  be  rather  annoyed 
than  pleased  by  the  frequent  intrusion  of  strange 
women,  neither  Janet  nor  Christina  heeded  his 
attitude  very  much. 

"What  for  would  we  be  caring?"  queried 
the  mother.  "  There  is  just  one  woman  in  the 
world  to  Andrew.  If  it  was  Sophy's  wedding- 
presents  now,  he  would  be  in  a  wonder  over 
them !  But  he  is  not  wanting  you  to  marry  at 
all,  Christina.  Men  are  a  selfish  lot.  Some 
how,  I  think  he  has  taken  a  doubt  or  a  dislike 
to  Jamie.  He  thinks  he  is  n't  good  enough  for 
you." 

"  He  is  as  good  as  I  want  him.  I  'm  feared 
for  men  as  particular  as  Andrew.  They  are 
whiles  gey  ill  to  live  with.  Andrew  has  not 
had  a  smile  for  a  body  for  a  long  time,  and  he 
has  been  making  raoney.  I  wonder  if  there  is 
aught  wrong  between  Sophy  and  himself." 

"  You  might  away  to  Largo  and  ask  after  the 
girl.  She  has  n't  been  here  in  a  good  while. 
And  I  'm  thinking  yonder  talk  she  had  with  you 
anent  Archie  Braelands  was  n't  all  out  of  her 
own  head." 

So  that  afternoon  Christina  put  on  her  kirk 
51 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

dress,  and  went  to  Largo  to  see  Sophy.  Her 
walk  took  her  over  a  lonely  stretch  of  country, 
though,  as  she  left  the  coast,  she  came  to  a 
lovely  land  of  meadows,  with  here  and  there 
waving  plantations  of  young  spruce  or  fir  trees. 
Passing  the  entrance  to  one  of  these  sheltered 
spots,  she  saw  a  servant  driving  leisurely  back 
and  forward  a  stylish  dog-cart ;  and  she  had  a 
sudden  intuition  that  it  belonged  to  Braelands. 
She  looked  keenly  into  the  green  shadows,  but 
saw  no  trace  of  any  human  being;  yet  she  had 
not  gone  far,  ere  she  was  aware  of  light  footsteps 
hurrying  behind  her,  and  before  she  could 
realise  the  fact,  Sophy  called  her  in  a  breathless, 
fretful  way  "  to  wait  a  minute  for  her."  The 
girl  came  up  flushed  and  angry-looking,  and 
asked  Christina,  "  whatever  brought  her  that 
far?" 

"  I  was  going  to  Largo  to  see  you.  Mother 
was  getting  worried  about  you.  It 's  long  since 
you  were  near  us." 

"  I  am  glad  I  met  you.  For  I  was  wearied 
with  the  sewing  to-day,  and  I  asked  Aunt  to  let 
me  have  a  holiday  to  go  and  see  you ;  and  now 
we  can  go  home  together,  and  she  will  never 
know  the  differ.  You  must  not  tell  her  but 
what  I  have  been  to  Pittendurie.  My  good 
ness  !  It  is  lucky  I  met  you." 

"  But  where  have  you  been,  Sophy?  " 
52 


THE   AILING   HEART 

"  I  have  been  with  a  friend,  who  gave  me  a 
long  drive." 

"Who  would  that  be?" 

11  Never  you  mind.  There  is  nothing  wrong 
to  it.  You  may  trust  me  for  that,  Christina. 
I  was  fairly  worn  out,  and  Aunt  has  n't  a  morsel 
of  pity.  She  thinks  I  ought  to  be  glad  to  sew 
from  Monday  morning  to  Saturday  night,  and 
I  tell  you  it  hurts  me,  and  gives  me  a  cough, 
and  I  had  to  get  a  breath  of  sea-air  or  die  for  it. 
So  a  friend  gave  me  what  I  wanted." 

"  But  if  you  had  come  to  our  house,  you  could 
have  got  the  sea-air  finely.  Sophy  !  Sophy  ! 
I  am  misdoubting  what  you  tell  me.  How  came 
you  in  the  wood  ?  " 

"  We  were  taking  a  bit  walk  by  ourselves 
there.  I  love  the  smell  of  the  pines,  and  the 
peace,  and  the  silence.  It  rests  me;  and  I 
did  n't  want  folks  spying,  and  talking,  and  going 
with  tales  to  Aunt.  She  ties  me  up  shorter 
than  needs  be  now." 

"  He  was  a  mean  fellow  to  leave  you  here  all 
by  yourself." 

"  I  made  him  do  it.  Goodness  knows,  he  is 
fain  enough  to  be  seen  by  high  and  low  with 
me.  But  Andrew  would  not  like  it;  he  is  that 
jealous-natured  —  and  I  just  be  to  have  some 
rest  and  fresh  air." 

"  Andrew  would  gladly  give  you  both." 
53 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  Not  he !  He  is  away  to  the  fishing,  or 
about  his  business,  one  way  or  another,  all  the 
time.  And  I  am  that  weary  of  stitch,  stitch, 
stitching,  I  could  cry  at  the  thought  of  it." 

"  Was  it  Archie  Braelands  that  gave  you  the 
drive?" 

"  Ay,  it  was.  Archie  is  just  my  friend,  nothing 
more.  I  have  told  him,  and  better  told  him, 
that  I  am  to  marry  Andrew." 

"  He  is  a  scoundrel  then  to  take  you  out." 

"  He  is  nothing  of  the  kind.  He  is  just  a 
friend.  I  am  doing  Andrew  no  wrong,  and  my 
self  a  deal  of  good." 

"  Then  why  are  you  feared  for  people  seeing 
you?" 

"  I  am  not  feared.  But  I  don't  want  to 
be  the  wonder  and  the  talk  of  every  idle 
body.  And  I  am  not  able  to  bear  my  aunt's 
nag,  nag,  nag  at  me.  I  wish  I  was  married. 
It  is  n't  right  of  Andrew  to  leave  me  so  much 
to  myself.  It  will  be  his  own  fault  if  he 
loses  me  altogether.  I  am  worn  out  with 
Aunt  Kilgour,  and  my  life  is  a  fair  weariness 
to  me." 

"  Andrew  is  getting  everything  brawly  ready 
for  you.  I  wish  I  could  tell  you  what  grand 
plans  he  has  for  your  happiness.  Be  true  to 
Andrew,  Sophy,  and  you  will  be  the  happiest 
bride,  and  the  best  loved  wife  in  all  Scotland." 
54 


THE   AILING   HEART 

"Plans!  What  plans?  What  has  he  told 
you?  " 

"  I  am  not  free  to  speak,  Sophy.  I  should 
not  have  said  a  word  at  all.  I  hope  you  will 
just  forget  I  have." 

"  Indeed  I  will  not !  I  will  make  Andrew  tell 
me  his  plans.  Why  should  he  tell  you,  and  not 
me?  It  is  a  shame  to  treat  me  that  way,  and 
he  shall  hear  tell  of  it." 

"  Sophy  !  Sophy  !  I  would  as  lief  you  killed 
me,  as  told  Andrew  I  had  given  you  a  hint  of 
his  doings.  He  would  never  forgive  me.  I  can 
no  forgive  myself.  Oh  what  a  foolish,  wicked 
woman  I  have  been  to  say  a  word  to  you  !  "  and 
Christina  burst  into  passionate  weeping. 

"  Whist  !  Christina ;  I  '11  never  tell  him,  not  I ! 
I  know  well  you  slipped  the  words  to  pleasure 
me.  But  giff-gaff  makes  us  good  friends,  and 
so  you  must  just  walk  to  the  door  with  me  and 
pass  a  word  with  my  aunt,  and  say  neither  this 
nor  that  about  me,  and  I  will  forget  you  ever 
said  Andrew  had  such  a  thing  as  a  '  plan ' 
about  me." 

The  proposal  was  not  to  Christina's  mind,  but 
she  was  ready  to  face  any  contingency  rather 
than  let  Andrew  know  she  had  given  the  slight 
est  hint  of  his  intentions.  She  understood  what 
joy  he  had  in  the  thought  of  telling  his  great 
news  to  Sophy  at  its  full  time,  and  how  angry  he 
55 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

would  naturally  feel  at  any  one  who  interfered 
with  his  designs.  In  a  moment,  without  inten 
tion,  with  the  very  kindest  of  motives,  she  had 
broken  her  word  to  her  brother,  and  she  was  as 
miserable  as  a  woman  could  be  over  the  un 
happy  slip.  And  Sophy's  proposal  added  to 
her  remorse.  It  made  her  virtually  connive 
at  Sophy's  intercourse  with  Archie  Braelands, 
and  she  felt  herself  to  be  in  a  great  strait. 
In  order  to  favour  her  brother  she  had  spoken 
hastily,  and  the  swift  punishment  of  her  folly 
was  that  she  must  now  either  confess  her  fault 
or  tacitly  sanction  a  wrong  against  him. 

For  the  present,  she  could  see  no  way  out  of 
the  difficulty.  To  tell  Andrew  would  be  to  make 
him  suspicious  on  every  point.  He  would  then 
doubtless  find  some  other  hiding  place  for  his 
money,  and  if  any  accident  did  happen,  her 
mother,  and  Sophy,  and  all  Andrew  loved,  would 
suffer  for  her  indiscretion.  She  took  Sophy's 
reiterated  promise,  and  then  walked  with  the 
girl  to  her  aunt's  house.  It  was  a  neat  stone 
dwelling,  with  some  bonnets  and  caps  in  the 
front  window,  and  when  the  door  was  opened,  a 
bell  rang,  and  Mistress  Kilgour  came  hastily 
from  an  inner  room.  She  looked  pleased  when 
she  saw  Sophy  and  Christina,  and  said :  — 

"  Come  in,  Christina.     I  am  glad  you  brought 
Sophy  home  in  such  good  time.     For  I  'm  in  a 

56 


THE   AILING   HEART 

state  of  perfect  flustration  this  afternoon.  Here  's 
a  bride  gown  and  bonnet  to  make,  and  a  sound 
of  more  work  coming." 

"  Who  is  to  be  married,  Miss  Kilgour?" 

"  Madame  Kilrin  of  Silverhavves  —  a  second 
affair,  Christina,  and  she  more  than  middle- 
aged." 

"She  is  rich,  though?" 

"  That 's  it !  rich,  but  made  up  of  odds  and 
ends,  and  but  one  eye  to  see  with  :  a  prelatic 
woman,  too,  seeking  all  things  her  own  way." 

"  And  the  man  ?     Who  is  he?  " 

11  He  is  a  lawyer.  Them  gentry  have  their 
fingers  in  every  pie,  hot  or  cold.  However, 
I  'm  wishing  them  nothing  but  good.  Madame 
is  a  constant  customer.  Come,  come,  Christina, 
you  are  not  going  already?  " 

"  I  am  hurried  to-night,  Mistress  Kilgour. 
Mother  is  alone.  Andrew  is  away  to  Greenock 
on  business." 

"  So  you  came  back  with  Sophy.  I  am  glad 
you  did.  There  are  some  folks  that  are  o'er 
ready  to  take  charge  of  the  girl,  and  some 
that  seem  to  think  she  can  take  charge  of  her 
self.  Oh,  she  knows  fine  what  I  mean  !  "  And 
Miss  Kilgour  pointed  her  fore-finger  at  Sophy 
and  shook  her  head  until  all  the  flowers  in  her 
cap  and  all  the  ringlets  on  her  front  hair  dangled 
in  unison. 

57 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

Sophy  had  turned  suddenly  sulky  and  made 
no  reply,  and  Miss  Kilgour  continued:  "It  is 
her  way  always,  when  she  has  been  to  your 
house,  Christina.  Whatever  do  you  say  to 
her?  Is  there  anything  agee  between  Andrew 
and  herself?  Last  week  and  the  week  before, 
she  came  back  from  Pittendurie  in  a  temper  no 
saint  could  live  with." 

"  I  'm  so  miserable,  Aunt.  I  am  miserable 
every  hour  of  my  life." 

"And  you  wouldn't  be  happy  unless  you 
were  miserable,  Sophy.  Don't  mind  her  talk, 
Christina.  Young  things  in  love  don't  know 
what  they  want." 

"  I  am  sick,  Aunt." 

"  You  are  in  love,  Sophy,  and  that  is  all  there 
is  to  it.  Don't  go,  Christina.  Have  a  cup  of 
tea  first?" 

"  I  cannot  stop  any  longer.  Good-bye,  Sophy. 
I  '11  tell  Andrew  to  come  and  give  you  a  walk 
to-morrow.  Shall  I?" 

"  If  you  like  to.  He  will  not  come  until  Sun 
day,  though  ;  and  then  he  will  be  troubled  about 
walking  on  the  Sabbath  day.  I  'm  not  caring 
to  go  out." 

"  That  is  a  lie,  Sophy  Traill !  "  cried  her  aunt. 
"  It  is  the  only  thing  you  do  care  about." 

"  You  had   better  go  home,  Christina,"  said 
Sophy,  with  a  sarcastic  smile,  "or  you  will  be 
58 


THE   AILING   HEART 

getting  a  share  of  temper  that  does  not  belong 
to  you.     I  am  well  used  to  it." 

Christina  made  an  effort  to  consider  this 
remark  as  a  joke,  and  under  this  cover  took  her 
leave.  She  was  thankful  to  be  alone  with  her 
self.  Her  thoughts  and  feelings  were  in  a 
tumult;  she  could  not  bring  any  kind  of  reason 
out  of  their  chaos.  Her  chagrin  at  her  own 
folly  was  sharp  and  bitter.  It  made  her  cry  out 
against  herself,  as  she  trod  rapidly  her  home 
ward  road.  Almost  inadvertently,  because  it 
was  the  shortest  and  most  usual  way,  she  took 
the  route  that  led  her  past  Braelands.  The  great 
house  was  thrown  open,  and  on  the  lawns  was  a 
crowd  of  handsomely  dressed  men  and  women, 
drinking  tea  at  little  tables  set  under  the  trees  and 
among  the  shrubbery.  Christina  merely  glanced 
at  the  brave  show  of  shifting  colour,  and  passed 
more  quickly  onward,  the  murmur  of  conversa 
tion  and  the  ripple  of  laughter  pursuing  her  a 
little  way,  for  the  evening  was  warm  and  quiet. 

She  thought  of  Sophy  among  this  gay  crowd, 
and  felt  the  incongruity  of  the  situation,  and  a 
sense  of  anger  sprung  up  in  her  breast  at  the 
girl's  wicked  impatience  and  unfaithfulness.  It 
had  caused  her  also  to  err,  for  she  had  been 
tempted  by  it  to  speak  words  which  had  been  a 
violation  of  her  own  promise,  and  yet  which  had 
really  done  no  good. 

59 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"  She  was  always  one  of  those  girls  that  led 
others  into  trouble,"  she  reflected.  "  Many  a 
scolding  she  has  got  me  when  I  was  a  wee  thing, 
and  to  think  that  now !  with  the  promise  to 
Andrew  warm  on  my  lips,  I  have  put  myself  in 
her  power  !  It  is  too  bad  !  It  is  not  believable  !  " 

She  was  glad  when  she  came  within  sight  of 
the  sea;  it  was  like  a  glimpse  of  home.  The 
damp,  fresh  wind  with  its  strong  flavour  of  brine 
put  heart  into  her,  and  the  few  sailors  and  fishers 
she  met,  with  their  sweethearts  on  their  arms 
and  their  blue  shirts  open  at  their  throats,  had 
all  a  merry  word  or  two  to  say  to  her.  When 
she  reached  her  home,  she  found  Andrew  sitting 
at  a  little  table  looking  over  some  papers  full 
of  strange  marks  and  columns  of  figures.  His 
quick  glance,  and  the  quiet  assurance  of  his  love 
contained  in  it,  went  sorely  to  her  heart.  She 
would  have  fallen  at  his  feet  and  confessed  her 
unadvised  admission  to  Sophy  gladly,  but  she 
doubted  whether  it  would  be  the  kindest  and 
wisest  thing  to  do. 

And  then  Janet  joined  them,  and  she  had  any 
number  of  questions  to  ask  about  Sophy,  and 
Christina,  to  escape  being  pressed  on  this  subject, 
began  to  talk  with  forced  interest  of  Madame 
Kilrin's  marriage.  So,  between  this  and  that, 
the  evening  got  over  without  suspicion,  and 
Christina  carried  her  miserable  sense  of  dis- 
60 


THE   AILING   HEART 

loyalty  to  bed  and  to  sleep  with  her  —  literally 
to  sleep,  for  she  dreamed  all  night  of  the  cir 
cumstance,  and  awakened  in  the  morning  with  a 
heart  as  heavy  as  lead. 

"  But  it  is  just  what  I  deserve !  "  she  said 
crossly  to  herself,  as  she  laced  her  shoes ;  "  what 
need  had  I  to  be  caring  about  Sophy  Traill  and 
her  whims?  She  is  a  dissatisfied  lass  at  the 
best,  and  her  love  affairs  are  beyond  my  sort 
ing.  Serves  you  right,  Christina  Binnie  !  You 
might  know,  if  anybody  might,  that  they  who 
put  their  oar  into  another's  boat  are  sure  to 
get  their  fingers  rapped.  They  deserve  it  too." 

However,  Christina  could  not  willingly  dwell 
long  on  sorrowful  subjects.  She  was  always 
inclined  to  subdue  trouble  swiftly,  or  else  to  shake 
it  away  from  her.  For  she  lived  by  intuition, 
rather  than  by  reason ;  and  intuition  is  born  of, 
and  fed  by,  home  affection  and  devout  religion. 
Something  too  of  that  insight  which  changes 
faith  into  knowledge,  and  which  is  the  birthright 
of  primitive  natures,  was  hers ;  and  she  divined, 
she  knew  not  how,  that  Sophy  would  be  true  to 
her  promise,  and  not  say  a  word  which  would 
lead  Andrew  to  doubt  her.  And  so  far  she  was 
right.  Sophy  had  many  faults,  but  the  idea  of 
breaking  her  contract  with  Christina  did  not 
even  occur  to  her. 

She  wondered  what  plans  Andrew  had,  and 
61 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

what  good  surprise  he  was  preparing  for  her,  but 
she  was  in  no  special  hurry  to  find  it  out.  The 
knowledge  might  bring  affairs  to  a  permanent 
crisis  between  her  and  Andrew,  —  might  mean 
marriage  —  and  Sophy  dreaded  to  face  this 
question,  with  all  its  isolating  demands.  Her 
"  friendship "  with  Archie  Braelands  was  very 
sweet  to  her ;  she  could  not  endure  to  think  of 
any  event  which  must  put  a  stop  to  it.  She 
enjoyed  Archie's  regrets  and  pleadings.  She 
liked  to  sigh  a  little  and  cry  a  little  over  her 
hard  fate;  to  be  sympathised  with  for  it;  to 
treat  it  as  if  she  could  not  escape  from  it ;  and  yet 
to  be  nursing  in  her  heart  a  passionate  hope  to 
do  so. 

And  after  all,  the  process  of  reflection  is  un 
natural  and  uncommon  to  nine  tenths  of  human 
ity  ;  and  so  Christina  lifted  her  daily  work  and 
interests,  and  tried  to  forget  her  fault.  And  in 
deed,  as  the  weeks  went  on,  she  tried  to  believe 
it  had  been  no  fault,  for  Sophy  was  much  kinder 
to  Andrew  for  some  time  ;  this  fact  being  readily 
discernible  in  Andrew's  cheerful  moods,  and  in 
the  more  kindly  interest  which  he  then  took  in 
his  home  matters. 

"  For  it  is  well  with  us,  when  it  is  well  with 

Sophy  Traill,  and  we  have  the  home  weather  she 

lets  us  have,"  Janet  often  remarked.   The  assertion 

had  a  great  deal  of  truth  in  it.     Sophy,  from  her 

62 


THE   AILING    HEART 

chair  in  Mistress  Kilgour's  workroom,  greatly 
influenced  the  domestic  happiness  of  the  Binnie 
cottage,  even  though  they  neither  saw  her,  nor 
spoke  her  name.  But  her  moods  made  Andrew 
happy  or  miserable,  and  Andrew's  moods  made 
Janet  and  Christina  happy  or  miserable;  so  sure 
and  so  wonderful  a  thing  is  human  solidarity. 
Yes  indeed  !  For  what  one  of  us  has  not  known 
some  man  or  woman,  never  seen,  who  holds 
the  thread  of  a  destiny  and  yet  has  no  knowl 
edge  concerning  it.  This  thought  would  make 
life  a  desperate  tangle  if  we  did  not  also  know 
that  One,  infinite  in  power  and  mercy,  guides 
every  event  to  its  predestined  and  its  wisest 
end. 

For  a  little  while  after  Christina's  visit,  Sophy 
was  particularly  kind  to  Andrew ;  then  there 
came  a  sudden  change,  and  Christina  noticed 
that  her  brother  returned  from  Largo  constantly 
with  a  heavy  step  and  a  gloomy  face.  Occasion 
ally  he  admitted  to  her  that  he  had  been  "  sorely 
disappointed,"  but  as  a  general  thing  he  shut 
himself  in  his  room  and  sulked  as  only  men 
know  how  to  sulk,  till  the  atmosphere  of  the 
house  was  tingling  with  suppressed  temper,  and 
every  one  was  on  the  edge  of  words  that  the 
tongue  meant  to  be  sharp  as  a  sword. 

One  morning  in  October,  Christina  met  her 
brother  on  the  sands,  and  he  said,  "  I  will  take 

63 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

the  boat  and  give  you  a  sail,  if  you  like,  Chris 
tina.  There  is  only  a  pleasant  breeze." 

"  I  wish  you  would,  Andrew,"  she  answered. 
"  This  little  northwester  will  blow  every  weariful 
thought  away." 

"  I  'm  feared  I  have  been  somewhat  cross  and 
ill  to  do  for,  lately.  Mother  says  so." 

"  Mother  does  not  say  far  wrong.  You  have 
lost  your  temper  often,  Andrew,  and  conse 
quent  your  common  sense.  And  it  is  not  like 
you  to  be  unfair,  not  to  say  unkind ;  you  have 
been  that  more  than  once,  and  to  two  who  love 
you  dearly." 

Andrew  said  no  more  until  they  were  on  the 
bay,  then  he  let  the  oars  drift,  and  asked :  — 

"  What  did  you  think  of  Sophy  the  last  time 
you  saw  her?  Tell  me  truly,  Christina." 

"Who  knows  aught  about  Sophy?  She 
hardly  knows  her  own  mind.  You  cannot  tell 
what  she  is  thinking  about  by  her  face,  any 
more  than  you  can  tell  what  she  is  going  to 
do  by  her  words.  She  is  as  uncertain  as  the 
wind,  and  it  has  changed  since  you  lifted  the 
oars.  Is  there  anything  new  to  fret  yourself 
over?" 

"  Ay,  there  is.     I  cannot  get  sight  of  her." 

"  Are  you  twenty-seven  years  old,  and  of  such 
a  beggary  of  capacity  as  not  to  be  able  to  concert 
time  and  place  to  see  her?  " 


THE   AILING   HEART 

"  But  if  she  herself  is  against  seeing  me,  then 
how  am  I  going  to  manage  ?  " 

"  What  way  did  you  find  out  that  she  was 
against  seeing  you?" 

"  Whatever  else  could  I  think,  when  I  get  no 
other  thing  but  excuses?  First,  she  was  gone 
away  for  a  week's  rest,  and  Mistress  Kilgour 
said  I  had  better  not  trouble  her  —  she  was 
that  nervous." 

"  Where  did  she  go  to?  " 

"  I  don't  believe  she  was  out  of  her  aunt's 
house.  I  am  sure  the  postman  was  astonished 
when  I  told  him  she  was  away,  and  her  aunt's 
face  was  very  confused-like.  Then  when  I  went 
again  she  had  a  headache,  and  could  hardly 
speak  a  word  to  me ;  and  she  never  named 
about  the  week's  holiday.  And  the  next  time 
there  was  a  ball  dress  making;  and  the  next 
she  had  gone  to  the  minister's  for  her  '  token/ 
and  when  I  said  I  would  go  there  and  meet  her, 
I  was  told  not  to  think  of  such  a  thing;  and  so 
on,  and  so  on,  Christina.  There  is  nothing  but 
put-offs  and  put-bys,  and  my  heart  is  full  of 
sadness  and  fearful  wonder." 

"  And  if  you  do  see  her,  what  then,  Andrew?  " 

"  She  is  that  low-spirited  I  do  not  know  how 

to  talk  to  her.     She  has  little  to  say,  and  sits 

with  her  seam,  and  her  eyes  cast   down,  and  all 

her  pretty,  merry   ways  are  gone   far  away.     I 

5  65 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

wonder  where  !     Do  you  think  she  is  ill,  Chris 
tina?"  he  asked  drearily. 

"  No,  I  do  not,  Andrew." 

"  Her  mother  died  of  a  consumption,  when 
she  was  only  a  young  thing,  you  know." 

"  That  is  no  reason  why  Sophy  should  die  of 
a  consumption.  Andrew,  have  you  ever  told 
her  what  your  plans  are?  Have  you  told  her 
she  may  be  a  lady  and  live  in  London  if 
it  pleases  her?  Have  you  told  her  that  you 
will  soon  be  Captain  Binnie  of  the  North  Sea 
fleet?" 

"  No,  no!  What  for  would  I  bribe  the  girl? 
I  want  her  free  given  love.  I  want  her  to 
marry  plain  Andrew  Binnie.  I  will  tell  her 
everything  the  very  hour  she  is  my  wife.  That 
is  the  joy  I  look  forward  to.  And  it  is  right,  is 
it  not?  " 

"  No.  It  is  all  wrong.  It  is  all  wrong.  Girls 
like  men  that  have  the  spirit  to  win  siller  and 
push  their  way  in  the  world." 

"  I  cannot  thole  the  thought  of  Sophy  marry 
ing  me  for  my  money." 

11  You  think  o'er  much  of  your  money.  Ask 
yourself  whether  in  getting  money  you  have 
got  good,  or  only  gold.  And  about  marry 
ing  Sophy,  it  is  not  in  your  hand.  Marriages 
are  made  in  heaven,  and  unless  there  has  been 
a  booking  of  your  two  names  above,  I  am  feared 
66 


THE   AILING   HEART 

all  your  courting  below  will  come  to  little. 
Yet  it  is  your  duty  to  do  all  you  can  to  win 
the  girl  you  want ;  and  I  can  tell  you  what 
will  win  Sophy  Traill,  if  anything  on  earth 
will  win  her." 

Then  she  pointed  out  to  him  how  fond  Sophy 
was  of  fine  dress  and  delicate  living ;  how  she 
loved  roses,  and  violets,  and  the  flowers  of  the 
garden,  so  much  better  than  the  pale,  salt  blos 
soms  of  the  sea  rack,  however  brilliant  the*ir 
colours  ;  how  she  admired  such  a  house  as  Brae- 
lands,  and  praised  the  glory  of  the  peacock's 
trailing  feathers.  u  The  girl  is  not  born  for  a 
poor  man's  wife,"  she  continued,  "  her  heart 
cries  out  for  gold,  and  all  that  gold  can  buy  ; 
and  if  you  are  set  on  Sophy,  and  none  but 
Sophy,  you  will  have  to  win  her  with  what  she 
likes  best,  or  else  see  some  other  man  do  so." 

"  Then  I  will  be  buying  her,  and  not  winning 
her." 

"  Oh  you  unspeakable  man  !  Your  conceit  is 
just  extraordinary !  If  you  wanted  any  other 
good  thing  in  life,  from  a  big  ship  to  a  gold  ring, 
would  you  not  expect  to  buy  it  ?  Would  your 
loving  it,  and  wanting  it,  be  sufficient?  Jamie 
Logan  knew  well  what  he  was  about,  when  he 
brought  us  the  letter  from  the  Hendersons'  firm. 
I  love  Jamie  very  dearly  ;  but  I  'm  free  to  con 
fess  the  letter  came  into  my  consideration." 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

Talking  thus,  with  the  good  wind  blowing  her 
words  into  his  heart,  Christina  soon  inspired 
Andrew  with  her  own  ideas  and  confidence. 
His  face  cleared  ;  he  began  to  row  with  his 
natural  energy  ;  and  as  they  stepped  on  the  wet 
sands  together,  he  said  almost  joyfully:  — 

"  I  will  take  your  advice,  Christina.  I  will 
go  and  tell  Sophy  everything." 

"  Then  she  will  smile  in  your  face,  she  will 
put  her  hand  in  your  hand ;  maybe,  she  will 
give  you  a  kiss,  for  she  will  be  thinking  in  her 
heart,  'how  brave  and  how  clever  my  Andrew  is  ! 
And  he  will  be  taking  me  to  London  and  mak 
ing  me  a  lady !  '  and  such  thoughts  breed  love, 
Andrew.  You  are  well  enough,  and  few  men 
handsomer  or  better  — unless  it  be  Jamie  Logan 
—  but  it  is  n't  altogether  the  man ;  it  is  what  the 
man  can  do" 

"  I  '11  go  and  see  Sophy  to-morrow." 

"  Why  not  to-day  ?  " 

"  She  is  going  to  Mariton  House  to  fit  a 
dress  and  do  some  sewing.  Her  aunt  told 
me  so." 

"  If  I  was  you,  I  would  not  let  her  sew  for 
strangers  any  longer.  Go  and  ask  her  to  marry 
you  at  once,  and  do  not  take  *  no '  from  her." 

"  Your  words  stir  my  heart  to  the  bottom   of 
it,    and    I   will    do   as  you   say,    Christina ;     for 
Sophy   has  grown    into   my  life,   like   my   own 
68 


THE   AILING   HEART 

folk,  and  the  sea,  and  the  stars,  and  my  boat, 
and  my  home.  And  if  she  will  love  me  the 
better  for  the  news  I  have  to  tell  her,  I  am 
that  far  gone  in  love  with  her  I  must  even  put 
wedding  on  that  ground.  Win  her  I  must;  or 
else  die  for  her." 

"Win  her,  surely;  die  for  her,  nonsense! 
No  man  worth  the  name  of  man  would  die 
because  a  woman  would  n't  marry  him.  God 
has  made  more  than  one  good  woman,  more 
than  one  fair  woman." 

"Only  one  woman  for  Andrew  Binnie." 

"To  be  sure,  if  you  choose  to  limit  yourself 
in  that  way.  I  think  better  of  you.  And  as  for 
dying  for  a  woman,  I  don't  believe  in  it." 

"  Poor  Matt  Ballantyne  broke  his  heart  about 
Jessie  Graham." 

"  It  was  a  very  poor  heart  then.  Nothing 
mends  so  soon  as  a  good  heart.  It  trusts  in  the 
Omnipotent,  and  gets  strength  for  its  need,  and 
then  begins  to  look  around  for  good  it  can  do, 
or  make  for  others,  or  take  to  itself.  If  Matt 
broke  his  heart  for  Jessie,  Jessie  would  have 
been  poorly  cared  for  by  such  a  weak  kind  of 
a  heart.  She  is  better  off  with  Neil  McAllister, 
no  doubt." 

"  You  have  done  me  good,  Christina.  I  have 
not  heard  so  many  sound  observes  in  a  long 
time." 

69 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

And  with  that  Janet  came  to  the  cliff-top  and 
called  to  them  to  hurry.  "Step  out!"  she 
cried,  "  here  is  Jamie  Logan  with  a  pocket  full 
of  great  news ;  and  the  fish  is  frying  itself  black, 
while  you  two  are  daundering,  as  if  it  was  your 
very  business  and  duty  to  keep  hungry  folk 
waiting  their  dinner  for  you." 


70 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE   LASH   OF  THE  WHIP 

WITH  a  joyful  haste  Christina  went  forward, 
leaving  her  brother  to  follow  in  more  sober 
fashion.  Jamie  came  to  the  cliff-top  to  meet 
her,  and  Janet  from  the  cottage  door  beamed 
congratulations  and  radiant  sympathy. 

"  I  have  got  my  berth  on  the  Line,  Christina ! 
I  am  to  sail  next  Friday  from  Greenock,  so  I  '11 
start  at  once,  my  dearie !  And  I  am  the  hap 
piest  lad  in  Fife  to-day !  " 

He  had  his  arms  around  her  as  he  spoke,  and 
he  kissed  her  smiles  and  glad  exclamations  off 
her  lips  before  she  could  put  them  into  words. 
Then  Andrew  joined  them,  and  after  clasping 
hands  with  Jamie  and  Christina,  he  went  slowly 
into  the  cottage,  leaving  the  lovers  alone  out 
side.  Janet  was  all  excitement. 

"  I  'm  like  to  greet  with  the  good  news, 
Andrew,"  she  said ;  "  it  came  so  unexpected. 
Jamie  was  just  daundering  over  the  sands,  kind 
of  down-hearted,  he  said,  and  wondering  if  he 
would  stay  through  the  winter  and  fish  with 
71 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

Peddie  or  not,  when  little  Maggie  Johnston  cried 
out,  '  there  is  a  big  letter  for  you,  Jamie  Logan,' 
and  he  went  and  got  it,  and,  lo  and  behold  !  it 
was  from  the  Hendersons  themselves !  And 
they  are  needing  Jamie  now,  and  he  'II  just  go 
at  once,  he  says.  There  's  luck  for  you  !  I  am 
both  laughing  and  crying  with  the  pride  and 
the  pleasure  of  it !  " 

"  I  would  n't  make  such  a  fuss,  anyway,  Mother. 
It  is  what  Jamie  has  been  looking  for  and  ex 
pecting,  and  I  am  glad  he  has  won  to  it  at  last.1' 

"  Fuss  indeed  !  Plenty  of  '  fuss  '  made  over 
sorrow;  why  not  over  joy?  And  if  you  think 
me  a  fool  for  it,  I  'm  not  sure  but  I  might  call 
you  my  neighbour,  if  it  was  only  Sophy  Traill  or 
her  affairs  to  be  '  fussed  '  over." 

"  Never  mind  Sophy,  Mother.  It  is  Jamie 
and  Christina  now,  and  Christina  knows  her 
happiness  is  dear  to  me  as  my  own." 

"  Well  then,  show  it,  Andrew.  Show  it,  my 
lad  !  We  must  do  what  we  can  to  put  heart 
into  poor  Jamie ;  for  when  all  is  said  and  done, 
he  is  going  to  foreign  parts  and  leaving  love 
and  home  behind."  And  she  walked  to  the 
door  and  looked  at  Jamie  and  Christina,  who 
were  standing  on  the  cliff-edge  together,  deeply 
engaged  in  a  conversation  that  was  of  the  high 
est  interest  to  themselves.  "  I  have  fancied  you 
have  been  a  bit  shy  with  Jamie  since  yon  time 
72 


THE   LASH    OF   THE   WHIP 

he  set  an  old  friend  before  his  promise  to  you, 
Andrew ;  but  what  then  ?  " 

"  I  wish  Christina  had  married  among  our 
own  folk.  I  have  no  wrong  to  say  in  particular 
of  Jamie  Logan,  but  I  think  my  sister  might 
have  made  her  life  with  some  good  man  a  bit 
closer  to  her." 

"  I  thought,  Andrew,  that  you  were  able  to 
look  sensibly  at  what  comes  and  goes.  If  it  was 
a  matter  of  business,  you  would  be  the  first  to 
see  the  advantage  of  building  your  dyke  with 
the  stones  you  could  get  at.  And  you  may  be 
lieve  me  or  not,  but  there  's  a  deal  of  the  suc 
cessful  work  of  this  life  carried  through  on  that 
principle.  Well,  in  marrying  it  is  just  as  wise. 
The  lad  you  can  get,  is  happen  better  than  the 
lad  you  want.  Anyhow  Christina  is  going  to 
marry  Jamie ;  and  I  'm  sure  he  is  that  loving 
and  pleasant,  and  that  fond  of  her,  that  I 
have  no  doubt  she  will  be  happy  as  the  day  is 
long." 

"  I  hope  it  is  the  truth,  Mother,  that  you  are 
saying." 

"  It  is ;  but  some  folks  won't  see  the  truthi 
though  they  are  dashing  their  noses  against  it. 
None  so  blind  as  they  who  won't  see." 

"  Well,  it  is  n't  within  my  right  to  speak 
to-day." 

"  Yes,  it  is.  It  is  your  right  and  place  to 
73 


A    KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

speak  all  the  good  and  hopeful  words  you  can 
think  of.  Don't  be  dour,  Andrew.  Man  !  man  ! 
how  hard  it  is  to  rejoice  with  them  that  do  re 
joice  !  It  takes  more  Christianity  to  do  that 
than  most  folks  carry  around  with  them." 

"  Mother,  you  are  a  perfectly  unreasonable 
woman.  You  flyte  at  me,  as  if  I  was  a  laddie 
of  ten  years  old  —  but  I  '11  not  dare  to  say  but 
what  you  do  me  a  deal  of  good;"  and  An 
drew's  face  brightened  as  he  looked  at  her. 

"  You  would  hardly  do  the  right  thing,  if  I 
didn't  flyte  at  you,  Andrew.  And  maybe  I 
would  n't  do  it  myself,  if  I  was  not  watching 
you  ;  having  nobody  to  scold  and  advise  is  very 
like  trying  to  fly  a  kite  without  wind.  Go  to  the 
door  and  call  in  Jamie  and  Christina.  We 
ought  to  take  an  interest  in  their  bit  plans  and 
schemes;  and  if  we  take  it,  we  ought  to  show 
we  take  it." 

Then  Andrew  rose  and  went  to  the  open 
door,  and  as  he  went  he  laid  his  big  hand  on 
his  mother's  shoulder,  and  a  smile  flew  from  face 
to  face,  and  in  its  light  every  little  shadow  van 
ished.  And  Jamie  was  glad  to  bring  in  his 
promised  bride,  and  among  her  own  people  as 
they  eat  together,  talk  over  the  good  that  had 
come  to  them,  and  the  changes  that  were  inci 
dent  to  it.  And  thus  an  hour  passed  swiftly  away, 
and  then  "  farewells  "  full  of  love  and  hope,  and 
74 


THE    LASH   OF   THE   WHIP 

laughter  and  tears,  and  hand-clasping,  and  good 
words,  were  said  ;  and  Jamie  went  off  to  his  new 
life,  leaving  a  thousand  pleasant  hopes  and  ex 
pectations  behind  him. 

After  he  was  fairly  out  of  sight,  and  Christina 
stood  looking  tearfully  into  the  vacancy  where 
his  image  still  lingered,  Andrew  led  her  to  the 
top  of  the  cliff,  and  they  sat  clown  together.  It 
was  an  exquisite  afternoon,  full  of  the  salt  and 
sparkle  of  the  sea ;  and  for  awhile  both  remained 
silent,  looking  down  on  the  cottages,  and  the 
creels,  and  the  drying  nets.  The  whole  village 
seemed  to  be  out,  and  the  sands  were  covered 
with  picturesque  figures  in  sea-boots  and  striped 
hanging  caps,  and  with  the  no  less  picturesque 
companion  figures  in  striped  petticoats.  Some  of 
the  latter  were  old  women,  and  these  wore  high- 
crowned,  unbordered  caps  of  white  linen  ;  others 
were  young  women,  and  these  had  no  covering  at 
all  on  their  exuberant  hair ;  but  most  of  them  dis 
played  long  gold  rings  in  their  ears,  and  bright 
scarlet  or  blue  kerchiefs  round  their  necks.  An 
drew  glanced  from  these  figures  to  his  sister; 
and  touching  her  striped  petticoat,  he  said  :  — 

"You  '11  be  changing  this  for  what  they  call  a 
gown,  when  you  go  to  Glasgow !  How  soon  is 
that  to  be,  Christina?  " 

"  When  Jamie  has  got  well  settled  in  his  place. 
It  would  n't  be  prudent  before." 
75 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  About  the  New  Year,  say?  " 

"  Ay ;  about  the  New  Year." 

"  I  am  thinking  of  giving  you  a  silk  gown  for 
your  wedding." 

"  O  Andrew !  if  you  would !  A  silk  gown 
would  set  me  up  above  every  thing!  I  '11  never 
forget  such  a  favour  as  that." 

"  I  '11  do  it." 

"And  Sophy  will  see  to  the  making  of  it. 
Sophy  has  a  wonderful  taste  about  trimming, 
and  the  like  of  that.  Sophy  will  stand  up  with 
me,  and  you  will  be  Jamie's  best  man ;  won't 
you,  Andrew?  " 

"  Ay,  Sophy  will  see  to  the  making  of  it. 
Few  can  make  a  gown  look  as  she  can.  She  is 
a  clever  bit  thing"  —  then  after  a  pause  he 
added  sadly,  "  there  was  one  thing  I  did  not 
tell  you  this  morning;  but  it  is  a  circumstance 
I  feel  very  badly  about." 

"What  is  it?  You  know  well  that  I  shall 
feel  with  you." 

"  It  is  the  way  folks  keep  hinting  this  and  that 
to  me ;  but  more,  that  I  am  mistrusting  Mistress 
Kilgour.  I  saw  a  young  fellow  standing  at  the 
shop  door  talking  to  her  the  other  morning 
very  confidential-like  —  a  young  fellow  that 
could  not  have  any  lawful  business  with  her." 

"  What  kind  of  a  person  was  he?  " 

"  A  large,  dark  man,  dressed  like  a  picture  in 


THE   LASH   OF  THE  WHIP 

a  tailor's  window.  His  servant-man,  in  a  livery  of 
brown  and  yellow,  was  holding  the  horses  in  a 
fine  dog-cart.  I  asked  Jimmy  Faulds  what  his 
name  was,  and  he  laughed  and  said  it  was  Brae- 
lands  of  Braelands,  and  he  should  think  I  knew 
it ;  and  then  he  looked  at  me  that  queer,  that  I 
felt  as  if  his  eyes  had  told  me  of  some  calamity. 
'What  is  he  doing  at  Mistress  Kilgour's?'  I 
asked,  as  soon  as  I  could  get  myself  together, 
and  Jimmy  answered,  '  I  suppose  he  is  order 
ing  Madame  Braelands'  millinery;'  and  then 
he  snickered  and  laughed  again,  and  I  had  hard 
lines  to  keep  my  hands  from  striking  him." 

"What  for  at  all?" 

"  I  don't  know.     I  wish  I  did." 

"  If  I  give  you  my  advice,  will  you  take  it?  " 

"  I  will." 

"  Then  for  once  —  if  you  don't  want  Brae 
lands  to  win  Sophy  from  you  —  put  your  lover's 
fears  and  shamefacedness  behind  your  back. 
Just  remember  who  and  what  you  are,  and 
what  you  are  like  to  be,  and  go  and  tell  Sophy 
everything,  and  ask  her  to  marry  you  next  Mon 
day  morning.  Take  gold  in  your  pocket,  and 
buy  her  a  wedding  gift  —  a  ring,  or  a  brooch, 
or  some  bonnie thing  or  other;  and  promise  her 
a  trip  to  Edinburgh  or  London,  or  any  other 
thing  she  fancies." 

"  We  have  not  been  '  cried  '  yet.  And  the 
77 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

names  must  be  read  in  the  kirk  for  three 
Sundays." 

"Oh  man!  Cannot  you  get  a  licence?  It 
will  cost  you  a  few  shillings,  but  what  of  that? 
You  are  too  slow,  Andrew.  If  you  don't  take 
care,  and  make  haste,  Braelands  will  run  away 
with  your  wife  before  your  very  eyes." 

"  I  '11  not  believe  it.  It  could  not  be.  The 
thing  is  unspeakable,  and  unbearable.  I  '11  face 
my  fate  the  morn,  and  I'll  know  the  best — or 
the  worst  of  what  is  coming  to  me." 

"  Look  for  good,  and  have  good,  that  is,  if 
you  don't  let  the  good  hour  go  by.  You, 
Andrew  Binnie !  that  can  manage  a  boat  when 
the  north  wind  is  doing  its  mightiest,  are  you 
going  to  be  one  of  the  cony  kind,  when  it  comes 
to  a  slip  of  a  girl  like  Sophy?  I  can  not  think 
it,  for  you  know  what  Solomon  said  of  such  — 
'  Oh  Son,  it  is  a  feeble  folk.'  " 

"  I  don't  come  of  feeble  folk,  body  nor  soul; 
and  as  I  have  said,  I  will  have  the  whole  matter 
out  with  Sophy  to-morrow." 

"  Good  — but  better  do  than  say." 

The  next  morning  a  swift  look  of  intelligence 
passed  between  Andrew  and  Christina  at  break 
fast,  and  about  eleven  o'clock  Andrew  said, 
"  I  '11  away  now  to  Largo,  and  settle  the  business 
we  were  speaking  of,  Christina."  She  looked  up 
at  him  critically,  and  thought  she  had  never 

78 


THE   LASH    OF   THE   WHIP 

seen  a  handsomer  man.  Though  only  a  fisher 
man,  he  was  too  much  a  force  of  nature  to  be 
vulgar.  He  was  the  incarnation  of  the  grey,  old 
village,  and  of  the  North  Sea,  and  of  its  stormy 
winds  and  waters.  Standing  in  his  boots  he  was 
over  six  feet,  full  of  pluck  and  fibre,  a  man 
not  made  for  the  town  and  its  narrow  doorways, 
but  for  the  great  spaces  of  the  tossing  ocean. 
His  face  was  strong  and  finely  formed ;  his  eyes 
grey  and  open  —  as  eyes  might  be  that  had 
so  often  searched  the  thickest  of  the  storm 
with  unquailing  glance.  A  sensitive  flush  over 
spread  his  brow  and  cheeks  as  Christina  gazed 
at  him,  and  he  said  nervously :  — 

"I  will  require  to  put  on  my  best  clothes; 
won't  I,  Christina?" 

She  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm,  and  shook  her 
head  with  a  pleasant  smile.  She  was  regarding 
with  pride  and  satisfaction  her  brother's  fine 
figure,  admirably  shown  in  the  elastic  grace  of 
his  blue  Guernsey.  She  turned  the  collar  low 
enough  to  leave  his  round  throat  a  little  bare, 
and  put  his  blue  flannel  Tarn  o'  SJiantcr  over 
his  close,  clustering  curls.  "  Go  as  you  are," 
she  said.  "  In  that  dress  you  feel  at  home,  and 
at  ease,  and  you  look  ten  times  the  man  you 
do  in  your  broadcloth.  And  if  Sophy  cannot 
like  her  fisher-lad  in  his  fisher-dress,  she  isn't 
worthy  of  him." 

79 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

He  was  much  pleased  with  this  advice,  for  it 
precisely  sorted  with  his  own  feelings ;  and  he 
stooped  and  kissed  Christina,  and  she  sent  him 
away  with  a  smile  and  a  good  wish.  Then  she 
went  to  her  mother,  who  was  in  a  little  shed 
salting  some  fish.  "  Mother,"  she  cried,  "  An 
drew  has  gone  to  Largo." 

"  Like  enough.  It  would  be  stranger,  if  he 
had  stopped  at  home." 

"  He  has  gone  to  ask  Sophy  to  marry  him 
next  week  —  next  Monday." 

"  Perfect  nonsense  !  We  '11  have  no  such  mar 
rying  in  a  hurry,  and  a  corner.  It  will  take  a 
full  month  to  marry  Andrew  Binnie.  What 
would  all  our  folks  say,  far  and  near,  if  they 
were  not  bid  to  the  wedding?  Set  to  that,  you 
have  to  be  married  first.  Marrying  is  n't  like 
Christmas,  coming  every  year  of  our  Lord  ;  and 
we  be  to  make  the  most  of  it.  I'll  not  give  my 
consent  to  any  such  like  hasty  work.  Why, 
they  are  not  even  '  called  '  in  the  kirk  yet." 

"  Andrew  can  get  a  licence." 

"  Andrew  can  get  a  fiddle-stick  !  None  of  the 
Binnies  were  ever  married,  but  by  word  of 
the  kirk,  and  none  of  them  shall  be,  if  I  can 
help  it.  Licence  indeed  !  Buying  the  right  to 
marry  for  a  few  shillings,  and  the  next  thing 
will  be  a  few  more  shillings  for  the  right  to  un- 
marry.  I  '11  not  hear  tell  of  such  a  way." 
80' 


THE    LASH    OF   THE   WHIP 

"  But,  Mother,  if  Andrew  does  not  get  Sophy 
at  once,  he  may  lose  her  altogether." 

"  Humph  !     No  great  loss." 

"  The  biggest  loss  in  the  world  that  Andrew 
can  have.  Things  are  come  to  a  pass.  If  An 
drew  does  not  marry  her  at  once,  I  am  feared 
Braelands  will  carry  her  off." 

"  He  is  welcome  to  her." 

"  No,  no,  Mother !  Do  you  want  Braelands 
to  get  the  best  of  Andrew?" 

"The  like  of  him  get  the  best  of  Andrew! 
I  '11  not  believe  it.  Sophy  is  n't  beyond  all 
sense  of  right  and  feeling.  If,  after  all  these 
years,  she  left  Andrew  for  that  fine  gentleman, 
she  would  be  a  very  Jael  of  deceit  and  treach 
ery.  I  wish  I  had  told  her  about  her  mother's 
second  cousin,  bonnie  Lizzie  Lauder." 

"What  of  her?  I  never  heard  tell,  did  I, 
Mother?" 

"  No.     We  don't  speak  of  Lizzie  now." 

"Why  then?" 

"  She  was  very  bonnie,  and  she  was  very  like 
Sophy  about  hating  to  work ;  and  she  was  never 
done  crying  to  all  the  gates  of  pleasure  to  open 
wide  and  let  her  enter.  And  she  went  in." 

"Well,  Mother?     Is  that  all?" 

"  No.     I  wish  in  God's  mercy  it  was !     The 
avenging  gates  closed  on  her.     She  is  shut  up 
in  hell.     There,  I  '11  say  no  more." 
6  81 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  Yes,  Mother.  You  will  ask  God's  mercy  for 
her.  It  never  faileth." 

Janet  turned  away,  and  lifted  her  apron  to  her 
eyes,  and  stood  so  silent  for  a  few  minutes.  And 
Christina  left  her  alone,  and  went  back  into  the 
house  place,  and  began  to  wash  up  the  breakfast- 
cups  and  cut  up  some  vegetables  for  their  early 
dinner.  And  by-and-by  her  mother  joined  her, 
and  Christina  began  to  tell  how  Andrew  had 
promised  her  a  silk  gown  for  her  wedding. 
This  bit  of  news  was  so  wonderful  and  delightful 
to  Janet,  that  it  drove  all  other  thoughts  far 
from  her.  She  sat  down  to  discuss  it  with  all 
the  care  and  importance  the  subject  demanded. 
Every  colour  was  considered ;  and  when  the 
colour  had  been  decided,  there  was  then  the 
number  of  yards  and  the  kind  of  trimming  to 
be  discussed,  and  the  manner  of  its  making, 
and  the  person  most  suitable  to  undertake  the 
momentous  task.  For  Janet  was  at  that  hour 
angry  with  Mistress  Kilgour,  and  not  inclined  to 
"  put  a  bawbee  her  way,"  seeing  that  it  was 
most  likely  she  had  been  favouring  Braeland's 
suit,  and  therefore  a  bitter  enemy  to  Andrew. 

After  the  noon  meal,  Janet  took  her  knitting, 
and  went  to  tell  as  many  of  her  neighbours  as  it 
was  possible  to  see  during  the  short  afternoon, 
about  the  silk  gown  her  Christina  was  to  be 
married  in;  and  Christina  spread  her  ironing 
82 


THE    LASH    OF   THE   WHIP 

table,  and  began  to  damp,  and  fold,  and  smooth 
the  clean  linen.  And  as  she  did  so,  she  sang  a 
verse  or  two  of  "  Hunting  Tower,"  and  then  she 
thought  awhile,  and  then  she  sang  again.  And 
she  was  so  happy,  that  her  form  swayed  to  her 
movements ;  it  seemed  to  smile  as  she  walked 
backwards  and  forwards  with  the  finished  gar 
ments  or  the  hot  iron  in  her  hands.  She  was 
thinking  of  the  happy  home  she  would  make  for 
Jamie,  and  of  all  the  bliss  that  was  coming  to  her. 
For  before  a  bird  flies  you  may  see  its  wings  ;  and 
Christina  was  already  pluming  hers  for  a  flight 
into  that  world  which  in  her  very  ignorance  she 
invested  with  a  thousand  unreal  charms. 

She  did  not  expect  Andrew  back  until  the 
evening.  He  would  most  likely  have  a  long 
talk  with  Sophy ;  there  was  so  much  to  tell  her ; 
and  when  it  was  over,  it  would  be  in  a  large 
measure  to  tell  again  to  Mistress  Kilgour. 
Then  it  was  likely  Andrew  would  take  tea  with 
his  promised  wife,  and  perhaps  they  might  have  a 
walk  afterwards  ;  so,  calculating  all  these  things, 
Christina  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  would 
be  well  on  to  bed  time,  before  she  knew  what 
arrangements  Andrew  had  made  for  his  mar 
riage  and  his  life  after  it. 

Not  a  single  unpleasant  doubt  troubled  her 
mind ;  she  thought  she  knew  Sophy's  nature  so 
well;  and  she  could  hardly  conceive  it  possible, 

83 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

that  the  girl  should  have  any  reluctances  about 
a  lad  so  well  known,  so  good,  and  so  handsome, 
and  with  such  a  fine  future  before  him,  as  An 
drew  Binnie.  All  Sophy's  flights  and  fancies, 
all  her  favours  to  young  Braelands,  Christina 
put  down  to  the  dissatisfaction  Sophy  so  often 
expressed  with  her  position,  and  the  vanity 
which  arose  naturally  from  her  recognised 
beauty  and  youthful  grace.  But  to  be  "  a  set 
tled  woman,"  with  a  loving  husband  and  "  a 
house  of  her  own,"  seemed  to  Christina  an  irre 
sistible  offer;  and  she  smiled  to  herself  when 
she  thought  of  Sophy's  surprise,  and  of  the 
many  pretty  little  airs  and  conceits  the  state  of 
bridehood  would  be  sure  to  bring  forth  in  her 
self-indulgent  nature. 

"  She  will  be  provoking  enough,  no  doubt," 
she  whispered  as  she  set  the  iron  sharply 
down ;  "  but  I  '11  never  notice  it.  She  is  very 
little  more  than  a  bairn,  and  but  a  canary-headed 
creature  added  to  that.  In  a  year  or  two, 
Andrew,  and  marriage,  and  maybe  motherhood, 
will  sober  and  settle  her.  And  Andrew  loves 
her  so.  Most  as  well  as  Jamie  loves  me.  For 
Andrew's  sake,  then,  I'll  bear  with  all  her  pro 
voking  ways  and  words.  She  '11  be  our  own, 
anyway,  and  we  be  to  have  patience  with  they 
of  our  own  household.  Bonnie  wee  Sophy." 

It  was  about  mid-afternoon  when  she  came 


THE    LASH    OF   THE   WHIP 

to  this  train  of  forbearing  and  conciliating  re 
flections.  She  was  quite  happy  in  it;  for  Chris 
tina  was  one  of  those  wise  women,  who  do  not 
'look  into  their  ideals  and  hopes  too  closely. 
Her  face  reflecting  them  was  beautiful  and 
benign;  and  her  shoulders,  and  hands,  her  sup 
ple  waist  and  limbs,  continued  the  symphonies 
of  her  soft,  deep,  loving  eyes  and  her  smiling 
mouth.  Every  now  and  then  she  burst  into 
song;  and  then  her  thrilling  voice,  so  sweet  and 
fresh,  had  tones  in  it  that  only  birds  and  good 
women  full  of  love  may  compass.  Mostly  the 
song  was  a  lilt  or  a  verse  which  spoke  for  her 
own  heart  and  love  ;  but  just  as  the  clock  struck 
three,  she  broke  into  a  low  laugh  which  ended 
in  a  merry,  mocking  melody,  and  which  was 
evidently  the  conclusion  of  her  argument  con 
cerning  Sophy's  behaviour  as  Andrew's  wife  — 

"  Toot !  toot !  quoth  the  grey-headed  father, 

She  's  less  of  a  bride  than  a  bairn ; 
She  's  ta'en  like  a  colt  from  the  heather, 
With  sense  and  discretion  to  learn. 

"  Half-husband  I  trow,  and  half  daddy, 

As  humour  inconstantly  leans; 
The  man  must  be  patient  and  steady, 
That  weds  with  a  lass  in  her  teens." 

She  had  hardly  finished    the   verse,  when  she 

heard  a   step   blending   with  its    echoes.     Her 

85 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

ears  rung  inward ;  her  eyes  dilated  with  an  un 
happy  expectancy;  she  put  down  her  iron 
with  a  sudden  faint  feeling,  and  turned  her  face 
to  the  door. 

Andrew  entered  the  cottage.  He  looked  at 
her  despairingly,  and  sinking  into  his  chair,  he 
covered  his  wretched  face  with  his  hands. 

It  was  not  the  same  man  who  had  left  her  a 
few  hours  before.  A  change,  like  that  which  a 
hot  iron  would  make  upon  a  green  leaf,  had 
been  made  in  her  handsome,  hopeful,  happy 
brother.  She  could  not  avoid  an  exclamation 
that  was  a  cry  of  terror ;  and  she  went  to  him 
and  kissed  him,  and  murmured,  she  knew  not 
what  words  of  pity  and  love.  Under  their  in 
fluence,  the  flood  gates  of  sorrow  were  unloosed ; 
he  began  to  weep,  to  sob,  to  shake  and  tremble, 
like  a  reed  in  a  tempest. 

Christina  saw  that  his  soul  was  tossed  from 
top  to  bottom,  and  in  the  madness  of  the  storm, 
she  knew  it  was  folly  to  ask  "  why  ?  "  But  she 
went  to  the  door,  closed  it,  slipped  forward  the 
bolt,  and  then  came  back  to  his  side,  waiting 
there  patiently  until  the  first  paroxysm  of  his 
grief  was  over.  Then  she  said  softly :  — 

"  Andrew  !  My  brother  Andrew  !  What  sor 
row  has  come  to  you?  Tell  Christina." 

"  Sophy  is   dead  —  dead   and   gone    for    me. 
Oh  Sophy,  Sophy,  Sophy !  " 
86 


THE   LASH    OF   THE   WHIP 

"  Andrew,  tell  me  a  straight  tale.  You  are 
not  a  woman  to  let  any  sorrow  get  the  mastery 
over  you." 

"  Sophy  has  gone  from  me.  She  has  played 
me  false  —  and  after  all  these  years,  deceived 
and  left  me." 

"Then  there  is  still  the  Faithful  One.  His 
love  is  from  everlasting,  to  everlasting.  He 
changeth  not." 

"  Ay  ;  I  know,"  he  said  drearily.  But  he 
straightened  himself  and  unfastened  the  button 
at  his  throat,  and  stood  up  on  his  feet,  planting 
them  far  apart,  as  if  he  felt  the  earth  like  the 
reeling  deck  of  a  ship.  And  Christina  opened 
the  little  window,  and  drew  his  chair  near  it, 
and  let  the  fresh  breeze  blow  upon  him  ;  and  her 
heart  throbbed  hotly  with  anger  and  pity. 

"  Sit  down  in  the  sea  wind,  Andrew,"  she 
said.  "  There  's  strength  and  a  breath  of  com 
fort  in  it;  and  try  and  give  your  trouble  words. 
Did  you  see  Sophy?  " 

"Ay;   I  saw  her." 

"At  her  aunt's  house?" 

"  No.  I  met  her  on  the  road.  She  was  in  a 
dog-cart;  and  the  master  of  Braelands  was 
driving  her.  I  saw  her,  ere  she  saw  me ;  and 
she  was  looking  in  his  face  as  she  never  looked 
in  my  face.  She  loves  him,  Christina,  as  she 
never  loved  me." 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  Did  you  speak  to  her?  " 

"  I  was  that  foolish,  and  left  to  myself.  She 
was  going  to  pass  me,  without  a  look  or  a 
word  ;  but  I  could  not  thole  the  scorn  and  pain 
of  it,  and  I  called  out  to  her,  '  Sophy  !  Sophy!' ' 

"  And  she  did  not  answer  you?  " 

"  She  cruddled  closer  to  Braelands.  And  then 
he  lifted  the  whip  to  hurry  the  horse  ;  and  be 
fore  I  knew  what  I  was  doing,  I  had  the  beast  by 
the  head  —  and  the  lash  of  the  whip  —  struck 
me  clean  across  the  cheek  bone." 

"  Oh  Andrew  !  Andrew  !  "  And  she  bent  for 
ward  and  looked  at  the  outraged  cheek,  and 
murmuring,  "  I  see  the  mark  of  it !  I  see  the 
mark  of  it !  "  she  kissed  the  long,  white  welt, 
and  wetted  it  with  her  indignant  tears. 

Andrew  sat  passive  under  her  sympathy 
until  she  asked,  "  Did  Braelands  say  anything 
when  he  struck  you?  Had  he  no  word  of 
excuse  ?  " 

"  He  said :  '  It  is  your  own  fault,  fisherman. 
The  lash  was  meant  for  the  horse,  and  not  for 
you.'  " 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  And  I  was  in  a  passion ;  and  I  shouted 
some  words  I  should  not  have  said  —  words  I 
never  said  in  my  life  before.  I  did  n't  think 
the  like  of  them  were  in  my  heart." 

"  I  don't  blame  you,  Andrew." 
88 


THE   LASH    OF   THE   WHIP 

"  I  blame  myself  though.  Then  I  bid  Sophy 
get  out  of  the  cart  and  come  to  me ;  —  and  —  " 

"  Yes,  dear  ? " 

"And  she  never  moved  or  spoke;  she  just 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and  gave  a 
little  scream ;  —  for  no  doubt  I  had  frighted 
her  —  and  Braelands,  he  got  into  the  de'il's 
own  rage  then,  and  dared  me  to  call  the 
lady  '  Sophy '  again ;  '  for,'  said  he,  '  she  will 
be  my  wife  before  many  days ' ;  and  with  that, 
he  struck  the  horse  savagely  again  and  again, 
and  the  poor  beast  broke  from  my  hand,  and 
bounded  for'ard ;  and  I  fell  on  my  back,  and 
the  wheels  of  the  cart  grazed  the  soles  of  my 
shoon  as  they  passed  me." 

"And  then?" 

"  I  don't  know  how  long  I  lay  there." 

"  And  they  went  on  and  left  you  lying  in  the 
highway?  " 

"  They  went  on." 

"  The  wicked  lass !  Oh  the  wicked,  heartless 
lass !  " 

"  You  are  not  able  to  judge  her,  Christina.' 

"But  you  can  judge  Braelands.  Get  a  war 
rant  for  the  scoundrel  the  morn.  He  is  without 
the  law." 

"Then  I  would  make  Sophy  the  common 
talk,  far  and  near.  How  could  I  wrong  Sophy 
to  right  myself?  " 

89 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"But  the  whip  lash!  the  whip  lash!  An 
drew.  You  cannot  thole  the  like  of  that !  " 

"  There  was  One  tholed  for  me  the  lash  and 
the  buffet,  and  answer'd  never  a  word.  I  can 
thole  the  lash  for  Sophy's  sake.  A  poor  love  I 
would  have  for  Sophy,  if  I  put  my  own  pride 
before  her  good  name.  If  I  get  help  '  from 
beyond/  I  can  thole  the  lash,  Christina." 

He  was  white  through  all  the  tan  of  wind,  and 
sea,  and  sun;  and  the  sweat  of  his  suffering 
stood  in  great  beads  on  his  pallid  face  and  brow. 
Christina  lifted  a  towel,  which  she  had  just 
ironed,  and  wiped  it  away ;  and  he  said  feebly :  — 

"  Thank  you,  dear  lass  !  I  will  go  to  my  bed 
a  wee." 

So  Christina  opened  the  door  of  his  room  and 
he  tottered  in,  swaying  like  a  drunken  man,  and 
threw  himself  upon  his  bed.  Five  minutes  after 
ward  she  stepped  softly  to  his  side.  He  was 
sunk  in  deep  sleep,  fathoms  below  the  tide  of 
grief  whose  waves  and  billows  had  gone  over 
him. 

"  Thanks  be  to  the  Merciful !  "  she  whispered. 
"  When  the  sorrow  is  too  great,  then  He  giveth 
His  beloved  sleep." 


CHAPTER    V 

THE   LOST   BRIDE 

THIS  unforeseen  and  unhappy  meeting  forced 
a  climax  in  Sophy's  love  affairs,  which  she  had 
hitherto  not  dared  to  face.  In  fact,  circum 
stances  tending  that  way  had  arisen  about  a  week 
previously;  and  it  was  in  consequence  of  them, 
that  she  was  publicly  riding  with  Braelands 
when  Andrew  met  them.  For  a  long  time  she 
had  insisted  on  secrecy  in  her  intercourse  with 
her  "friend."  She  was  afraid  of  Andrew;  she 
was  afraid  of  her  aunt;  she  was  afraid  of  being 
made  a  talk  and  a  speculation  to  the  gossips  of 
the  little  town.  And  though  Miss  Kilgour  had 
begun  to  suspect  somewhat,  she  was  not  inclined 
to  verify  her  suspicions.  Madame  Braelands 
was  a  good  customer,  therefore  she  did  not  wish 
to  know  anything  about  a  matter  which  she  was 
sure  would  be  a  great  annoyance  to  that  lady. 

But  Madame  herself  forced  the  knowledge  on 
her.     Some  friend  had  called  at  Braelands  and 
thought  it  right  to  let  her  know  what  a  danger 
ous  affair  her  son  was  engaged  in.     "  For  the 
91 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

girl  is  beautiful,"  she  said,  "  there  is  no  denying 
that;  and  she  comes  of  fisher-folk,  who  have 
simply  no  idea  but  that  love -words  and  love- 
kisses  must  lead  to  marrying  and  housekeeping, 
and  who  will  bitterly  resent  and  avenge  a  wrong 
done  to  any  woman  of  their  class,  as  you  well 
know,  Madame." 

Madame  did  know  this  very  well ;  and  apart 
from  her  terror  of  a  mesalliance  for  the  heir  of 
Braelands,  there  was  the  fact  that  his  family  had 
always  had  great  political  influence,  and  looked 
to  a  public  recognition  of  it.  The  fisher  vote 
was  an  important  factor  in  the  return  of  any  as 
pirant  for  Parliamentary  honour;  and  she  felt 
keenly  that  Archie  was  endangering  his  whole 
future  career  by  his  attentions  to  a  girl  whom 
it  was  impossible  he  should  marry,  but  who 
would  have  the  power  to  arouse  against  him  a 
bitter  antagonism,  if  he  did  not  marry  her. 

She  affected  to  her  friend  a  total  indifference 
to  the  subject  of  her  son's  amusements,  and  she 
said  "  she  was  moreover  sure  that  Archibald 
Braelands  would  never  do  anything  to  prejudice 
his  own  honour,  or  the  honour  of  the  humblest 
fisher-girl  in  Fifeshire."  But  all  the  same,  her 
heart  was  sick  with  fear  and  anxiety;  and  as 
soon  as  her  informant  had  gone,  she  ordered  her 
carriage,  dressed  herself  in  all  her  braveries,  and 
drove  hastily  to  Mistress  Kilgour's. 
92 


THE   LOST   BRIDE 

At  that  very  hour,  this  lady  was  fussing  and 
fuming  angrily  at  her  niece.  Sophy  had  insisted 
on  going  for  a  walk,  and  in  the  altercation  at 
tending  this  resolve,  Mistress  Kilgour  had  unad- 
visably  given  speech  to  her  suspicions  about 
Sophy's  companion  in  these  frequent  walks, 
and  threatened  her  with  a  revelation  of  these 
doubts  to  Andrew  Binnie.  But  in  spite  of  all, 
Sophy  had  left  the  house;  and  her  aunt  was 
nursing  her  wrath  against  her  when  Madame 
Braeland's  carriage  clattered  up  to  her  shop 
door. 

Now  if  Madame  had  been  a  prudent  woman, 
and  kept  the  rein  on  her  prideful  temper,  she 
would  have  found  Mistress  Kilgour  in  the  very 
mood  suitable  for  an  ally.  But  Madame  had 
also  been  nursing  her  wrath,  and  as  soon  as 
Mistress  Kilgour  had  appeared,  she  asked  an 
grily:— 

"  Where  is  that  niece  of  yours,  Mistress  Kil 
gour?  I  should  very  much  like  to  know." 

The  tone  of  the  question  irritated  the  dress 
maker,  and  instantly  her  sympathies  flew  toward 
her  own  kith,  and  kin,  and  class.  Also,  her  cau 
tion  was  at  once  aroused,  and  she  answered  the 
question,  Scotch-wise,  by  another  question :  — 

'  What  for  are  you  requiring  to  see  Sophy, 
Madame?" 

"  Is  she  in  the  house?" 
93 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  Shall  I  go  and  see?" 

"  Go  and  see,  indeed  !  You  know  well  she  is 
not.  You  know  she  is  away  somewhere,  walk 
ing  or  driving  with  my  son  —  with  the  heir  of 
Braelands.  Oh,  I  have  heard  all  about  their 
shameful  carryings-on." 

"  You  '11  not  need  to  use  the  word  '  shameful ' 
with  regard  to  my  niece,  Sophy  Traill,  Madame 
Braelands.  She  has  never  earned  such  a  like 
word,  and  she  never  will.  You  may  take  my 
say-so  for  that." 

"  It  is  not  anybody's  say-so  in  this  case.  See 
ing  is  believing,  and  they  have  been  seen  to 
gether,  walking  in  Fernie  wood,  and  down  among 
the  rocks  on  the  Elie  coast,  and  in  many  other 
places." 

"Well  and  good,  Madame.  What  by  that? 
Young  things  will  be  young  things." 

"  What  by  that?  Do  you,  a  woman  of  your 
age,  ask  me  such  a  question.  When  a  gentle 
man  of  good  blood  and  family,  as  well  as  great 
wealth,  goes  walking  and  driving  with  a  poor 
girl  of  no  family  at  all,  do  you  ask  what  by 
that?  Nothing  but  disgrace  and  trouble  can  be 
looked  for." 

"  Speak  for  your  own  kin  and  side,  Madame. 
And  I    should  think  a  woman  of  your  age - 
being  at  least  twenty  years  older  than  myself  - 
would  know  that  true  love  never  asks  for  a  girl's 
94 


THE   LOST   BRIDE 

pedigree.  And  as  for  '  disgrace/  Sophy  Traill 
will  never  call  anything  like  '  disgrace  '  to  her 
self.  I  will  allow  that  Sophy  is  poor,  but  as  for 
family,  the  Traills  are  of  the  best  Norse  strain. 
They  were  sea-fighters,  hundreds  of  years  before 
they  were  sea-fishers ;  and  they  had  been  '  at 
home '  on  the  North  Sea,  and  in  all  the  lands 
about  it,  centuries  before  the  like  of  the  Brae- 
lands  were  thought  or  heard  tell  of." 

Mistress  Kilgour  was  rapidly  becoming  angry, 
and  Madame  would  have  been  wise  to  have 
noted  the  circumstance;  but  she  herself  was 
now  past  all  prudence,  and  with  an  air  of  con 
tempt  she  took  out  her  jewelled  watch,  and 
beginning  to  slowly  wind  it,  said :  — 

"  My  good  woman,  Sophy's  father  was  a  com 
mon  fisherman.  We  have  no  call  to  go  back  to 
the  time  when  her  people  were  pirates  and  sea- 
robbers." 

"  I  am  my  own  woman,  Madame.  And  I  will 
take  my  oath  I  am  not  your  woman,  anyhow. 
And  '  common'  or  uncommon,  the  fishermen  of 
Fife  call  no  man  master  but  the  Lord  God 
Almighty,  from  whose  hands  they  take  their 
food,  summer  and  winter.  And  I  will  make 
free  to  say,  moreover,  that  if  Braelands  loves 
Sophy  Traill  and  she  loves  him,  worse  might 
befall  him  than  Sophy  for  a  wife.  For  if  God 
thinks  fit  to  mate  them,  it  is  not  Grisclda  Kil- 
95 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

gotir  that  will  take  upon  herself  to  contradict 
the  Will  of  Heaven." 

"  Don't  talk  rubbish,  Mistress  Kilgour.  Peo 
ple  who  live  in  society  have  to  regard  what 
society  thinks  and  says." 

"  It  is  no  ways  obligatory,  Madame  ;  the  voice 
of  God  and  Nature  has  more  weight,  I  'm  think 
ing,  and  if  God  links  two  together,  you  will  find 
it  gey  and  hard  to  separate  them." 

"  I  heard  the  girl  was  promised  since  her  baby 
hood  to  a  fisherman  called  Andrew  Binnie." 

"  For  once  you  have  heard  the  truth,  Ma 
dame.  But  you  know  yourself  that  babyhood 
and  womanhood  are  two  different  things;  and 
the  woman  has  just  set  at  naught  the  baby. 
That  is  all." 

"  No,  it  is  not  all.  This  Andrew  Binnie  is  a 
man  of  great  influence  among  the  fishers,  and 
my  son  cannot  afford  to  make  enemies  among 
that  class.  It  will  be  highly  prejudicial  to  him." 

"  I  cannot  help  that,  Madame.  Braelands  is 
well  able  to  row  his  own  boat.  At  any  rate,  I 
am  not  called  to  take  an  oar  in  it." 

"  Yes,  you  are.  I  have  been  a  good  customer 
to  you,  Mistress  Kilgour." 

"I  am  not  denying  it;  at  the  same  time  I 
have  been  a  good  dress  and  bonnet  maker  to 
you,  and  earned  every  penny-bit  you  have  paid 
r"e.  The  obligation  is  mutual,  I  'm  thinking." 


THE   LOST   BRIDE 

"  I  can  be  a  still  better  customer  if  you 
will  prevent  this  gentle-shepherding  and  love- 
making.  I  would  not  even  scruple  at  a  twenty 
pound  note,  or  perhaps  two  of  them." 

"  Straa!  If  you  were  Queen  of  England, 
Madame,  I  would  call  you  an  insolent  dastard, 
to  try  and  bribe  me  against  my  own  flesh  and 
blood.  You  are  a  very  Judas,  to  think  of  such 
a  thing.  Good  blood !  fine  family !  indeed ! 
If  your  son  is  like  yourself,  I'm  not  caring  for 
him  coming  into  my  family  at  all." 

"  Mistress  Kilgour,  you  may  close  my  account 
with  you.  I  shall  employ  you  no  more." 

"  Pay  me  the  sixteen  pounds  odd  you  owe 
me,  and  then  I  will  shut  my  books  forever 
against  Braelands.  Accounts  are  not  closed  till 
outstanding  money  is  paid  in." 

"  I  shall  send  the  money." 

"  The  sight  of  the  money  would  be  better 
than  the  promise  of  it,  Madame ;  for  some  of  it 
is  owing  more  than  a  twelvemonth;  "  and  Mis 
tress  Kilgour  hastily  turned  over  to  the  Brae- 
lands  page  of  her  ledger,  while  Madame,  with  an 
air  of  affront  and  indignation,  hastily  left  the 
shop. 

Following  this  wordy  battle  with  her  dress 
maker,  Madame  had  an  equally  stubborn  one 
with  her  son,  the  immediate  consequence  of 
which  was  that  very  interview  whose  close  was 
7  97 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

witnessed  by  Andrew  Binnie.  In  this  confer 
ence  Braelands  acknowledged  his  devotion  to 
Sophy,  and  earnestly  pleaded  for  Mistress  Kil- 
gour's  favour  for  his  suit.  She  was  now  quite 
inclined  to  favour  him.  Her  own  niece,  as  mis 
tress  of  Braelands,  would  be  not  only  a  great 
social  success,  but  also  a  great  financial  one. 
Madame  Braelands's  capacity  for  bonnets  was 
two  every  year;  Sophy's  capacity  was  unlim 
ited.  Madame  considered  four  dresses  annually 
quite  extravagant;  Sophy's  ideas  on  the  same 
subject  were  constantly  enlarging.  And  then 
there  would  be  the  satisfaction  of  overcoming 
Madame.  So  she  yielded  easily  and  gracefully 
to  Archie  Braelands's  petition,  and  thus  Sophy 
suddenly  found  herself  able  to  do  openly  what 
she  had  hitherto  done  secretly,  and  the  question 
of  her  marriage  with  Braelands  accepted  as  an 
understood  conclusion. 

At  this  sudden  culmination  of  her  hardly 
acknowledged  desires,  the  girl  was  for  a  short 
time  distracted.  She  felt  that  Andrew  must 
now  be  definitely  resigned,  and  a  strangely  sad 
feeling  of  pity  and  reluctance  assailed  her. 
There  were  moments  she  knew  not  which  lover 
was  dearest  to  her.  The  habit  of  loving  Andrew 
had  grown  through  long  years  in  her  heart; 
she  trusted  him  as  she  trusted  no  other  mortal ; 
she  was  not  prepared  to  give  up  absolutely  all 


,  THE   LOST   BRIDE 

rights  in  a  heart  so  purely  and  so  devotedly  her 
own.  For  if  she  knew  anything,  she  knew  right 
well  that  no  other  man  would  ever  give  her  the 
same  unfaltering,  unselfish  affection. 

And  when  she  dared  to  consider  truthfully 
her  estimate  of  Archie  Braelands,  she  judged 
his  love,  passionate  as  it  was,  did  not  ring  true 
through  all  its  depths.  There  were  times  when 
her  little gauchcrics fretted  him;  when  her  dress 
did  not  suit  him ;  when  he  put  aside  an  engage 
ment  with  her  for  a  sail  with  a  lord,  or  a  dinner 
party  with  friends,  or  a  social  function  at  his 
own  home.  Andrew  put  no  one  before  her; 
and  even  the  business  that  kept  him  from  her 
side  was  all  for  her  future  happiness.  Every  ob 
ject  and  every  aim  of  his  life  had  reference  to  her. 
It  was  hard  to  give  up  such  a  perfect  love,  and 
she  felt  that  she  could  not  see  Andrew  face  to 
face  and  do  it.  Hence  her  refusals  to  meet  him, 
and  her  shyness  and  silence  when  a  meeting  was 
unavoidable.  Hence,  also,  came  a  very  peculiar 
attitude  of  Andrew's  friends  and  mates  ;  for  they 
could  not  conceive  how  Andrew's  implicit  faith 
in  his  love  should  prevent  him  from  finding  out 
what  was  so  evident  to  every  man  and  woman 
in  Largo. 

Alas !  the  knowledge  had  now  come  to  him. 
That  it  could  have  come  in  any  harder  way, 
it  is  difficult  to  believe.  There  was  only  one 
99 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

palliation  to  its  misery  —  it  was  quite  unpre 
meditated  —  but  even  this  mitigation  of  the 
affront  hardly  brought  him  any  comfort  as  yet. 
Braelands  was  certainly  deeply  grieved  at  the 
miserable  outcome  of  the  meeting.  He  knew 
the  pride  of  the  fisher  race,  and  he  had  himself 
a  manly  instinct,  strong  enough  to  understand 
the  undeserved  humiliation  of  Andrew's  position. 
Honestly,  as  a  gentleman,  he  was  sorry  the  quar 
rel  had  taken  place ;  as  a  lover,  he  was  anxious 
to  turn  it  to  his  own  advantage.  For  he  saw 
that,  in  spite  of  all  her  coldness  and  apparent 
apathy,  Sophy  was  affected  and  wounded  by 
Andrew's  bitter  imploration  and  its  wretched 
and  sorrowful1  ending,  If  the  man  should  gain 
her  ear  and  sympathy,  Braelands  feared  for  the 
result.  He  therefore  urged  her  to  an  immediate 
marriage  ;  and  when  Mistress  Kilgour  was  taken 
into  counsel,  she  encouraged  the  idea,  because 
of  the  talk  which  was  sure  to  follow  such  a 
flagrant  breach  of  the  courtesies  of  life. 

But  even  at  this  juncture,  Sophy's  vanity  must 
have  its  showing;  and  she  refused  to  marry, 
until  at  least  two  or  three  suitable  dresses  should 
have  been  prepared  ;  so  the  uttermost  favour  that 
could  be  obtained  from  the  stubborn  little 
bride  was  a  date  somewhere  within  two  weeks 
away. 

During  these  two  weeks  there  was  an  un- 
100 


THE   LOST   BRIDE 

speakable  unhappiness  in  the  Binnic  household. 
For  oh,  how  dreary  are  those  wastes  of  life,  left 
by  the  loved  who  have  deserted  us !  These  are 
the  vacant  places  we  water  with  our  bitterest 
tears.  Had  Sophy  died,  Andrew  would  have 
said,  "  It  is  the  Lord ;  let  him  do  what  seemeth 
right  in  his  sight."  But  the  manner  and  the 
means  of  his  loss  filled  him  with  a  dumb  sorrow 
and  rage ;  for  in  spite  of  his  mother's  and  sister's 
urging,  he  would  do  nothing  to  right  his  own 
self-respect  at  the  price  of  giving  Sophy  the 
slightest  trouble  or  notoriety.  Suffer  !  Yes,  he 
suffered  at  home,  where  Janet  and  Christina 
continually  reminded  him  of  the  insult  he  ought 
to  avenge;  and  he  suffered  also  abroad,  where 
his  mates  looked  at  him  with  eyes  full  of  sur 
prise  and  angry  inquiries. 

But  though  the  village  was  ringing  with  gossip 
about  Sophy  and  young  Braelands,  never  a  man 
or  woman  in  it  ventured  to  openly  question  the 
stern,  sullen,  irritable  man  who  had  been  so  long 
recognised  as  her  accepted  lover.  And  whether 
he  was  in  the  boats  or  out  of  them,  no  one 
dared  to  speak  Sophy's  name  in  his  presence. 
Indeed,  upon  the  whole,  he  was  during  these 
days  what  Janet  Binnic  called  "  an  ill  man  to 
live  with  —  a  man  out  of  his  senses,  and  falling 
away  from  his  meat  and  his  clothes." 

This  misery  continued  for  about  two  weeks 

IOI 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

without  any  abatement,  and  Janet's  and  Chris 
tina's  sympathy  was  beginning  to  be  tinged  with 
resentment.  It  seems  so  unnatural  and  unjust, 
that  a  girl  who  had  already  done  them  so  much 
wrong,  and  who  was  so  far  outside  their  daily 
life,  should  have  the  power  to  still  darken  their 
home,  and  infuse  a  bitter  drop  into  their  peculiar 
joys  and  hopes. 

"I  am  glad  the  wicked  lass  isn't  near  by 
me,"  said  Janet  one  morning,  when  Andrew 
had  declared  himself  unable  to  eat  his  breakfast, 
and  gone  out  of  the  cottage  to  escape  his 
mother's  pleadings  and  reproofs.  "  I  'm  glad 
she  is  n't  near  me.  If  she  was  here,  I  could  not 
keep  my  tongue  from  her.  She  should  hear  the 
truth  for  once,  if  she  never  heard  it  again. 
They  should  be  words  as  sharp  as  the  birch 
rod  she  ought  to  have  had,  when  she  first  be 
gan  her  nonsense,  and  her  airs  and  graces." 

"She  is  a  bad  girl;  but  we  must  remember 
that  she  was  left  much  to  herself — no  mother 
to  guide  her,  no  sister  or  brother  either." 

"  It  would  have  been  a  pity  if  there  had  been 
more  of  them.  One  scone  of  that  baking  is 
enough.  The  way  she  has  treated  our  Andrew 
is  abominable.  Flesh  and  blood  can't  bear  such 
doings." 

As  Janet  made  this  assertion,  a  cousin  of 
Sophy's  came  into  the  cottage,  and  answered 

102 


THE   LOST   BRIDE 

her.  "  I  know  you  are  talking  of  Sophy,"  she 
said,  "  and  I  am  not  wondering  at  the  terrivee 
you  are  making.  As  for  me,  though  she  is  my 
cousin,  I  '11  never  exchange  the  Queen's  language 
with  her  again  as  long  as  I  live  in  this  world. 
But  all  bad  things  come  to  an  end,  as  well  as 
good  ones,  and  I  am  bringing  what  will  put  a 
stop  at  last  to  all  this  clishmaclaver  about  that 
wearisome  lassie,"  —  and  with  these  words  she 
handed  Janet  two  shining  white  cards,  tied  to 
gether  with  a  bit  of  silver  wire. 

They  were  Sophy's  wedding  cards  ;  and  she  had 
also  sent  from  Edinburgh  a  newspaper  contain 
ing  a  notice  of  her  marriage  to  Archibald  Brae- 
lands.  The  news  was  very  satisfactory  to  Janet. 
She  held  the  bits  of  cardboard  with  her  finger 
tips,  looking  grimly  at  the  names  upon  them. 
Then  she  laughed,  not  very  pleasantly,  at  the 
difference  in  the  size  of  the  cards.  "  He  has 
the  wee  card  now,"  she  said,  "  and  Sophy  the 
big  one  ;  but  I  'm  thinking  the  wee  one  will 
grow  big,  and  the  big  one  grow  little  before 
long.  I  will  take  them  to  Andrew  myself ;  the 
sight  of  them  will  be  a  bitter  medicine,  but  it 
will  do  him  good.  Folks  may  count  it  great 
gain  when  they  get  rid  of  a  false  hope." 

Andrew  was  walking  moodily  about  the  bit 
of  bare  turf  in  front  of  the  cottage  door,  stopping 
now  and  then  to  look  over  the  sea,  where  the 
103 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

brown  sails  of  some  of  the  fishing  boats  still 
caught  the  lazy  south  wind.  He  was  thinking 
that  the  sea  was  cloudy,  and  that  there  was  an 
evil-looking  sky  to  the  eastward  ;  and  then,  as 
his  mind  took  in  at  the  same  moment  the  dan 
gers  to  the  fishers  who  people  the  grey  waters 
and  his  own  sorrowful  wrong,  he  turned  and  be 
gan  to  walk  about  muttering  —  "  Lord  help  us  ! 
We  must  bear  what  is  sent." 

Then  Janet  called  him,  and  he  watched  for 
her  approach.  She  put  the  cards  into  his  hand 
saying,  "  Sophy's  cousin,  Isobel  Murray,  brought 
them."  Her  voice  was  full  of  resentment;  and 
Andrew,  not  at  the  moment  realising  a  custom 
so  unfamiliar  in  a  fishing-village,  looked  wonder- 
ingly  in  his  mother's  face,  and  then  at  the  fateful 
white  messengers. 

"  Read  the  names  on  them,  Andrew  man,  and 
you  '11  know  then  why  they  are  sent  to  Pitten- 
durie." 

Then  he  looked  steadily  at  the  inscription,  and 
the  struggle  of  the  inner  man  shook  the  outward 
man  visibly.  It  was  like  a  shot  in  the  backbone. 
But  it  was  only  for  a  moment  he  staggered  ; 
though  he  had  few  resources,  his  faith  in  the 
Cross  and  his  confidence  in  himself  made  him 
a  match  for  his  hard  fate.  It  is  in  such  critical 
moments  the  soul  reveals  if  it  be  selfish  or 
generous,  and  Andrew,  with  a  quick  upward 
104 


THE   LOST   BRIDE 

fling  of  the  head,  regained  absolutely  that  self- 
control,  which  he  had  voluntarily  abdicated. 

"  You  will  tell  Isobel,"  he  said,  "  that  I  wish 
Mistress  Braelands  every  good  thing,  both  for 
this  life  and  the  next."  Then  he  stepped  closer 
to  his  mother  and  kissed  her  ;  and  Janet  was  so 
touched  and  amazed  that  she  could  not  speak. 
But  the  look  of  loving  wonder  on  her  face  was 
far  better  than  words.  And  as  she  stood  look 
ing  at  him,  Andrew  put  the  cards  in  his  pocket, 
and  went  down  to  the  sea ;  and  Janet  returned 
to  the  cottage  and  gave  Isobel  the  message  he 
had  sent. 

But  this  information,  so  scanty  and  yet  so 
conclusive,  by  no  means  satisfied  the  curiosity 
of  the  women.  A  great  deal  of  indignation  was 
expressed  by  Sophy's  kindred  and  friends  in  the 
village  at  her  total  ignoring  of  their  claims. 
They  did  not  expect  to  be  invited  to  a  house 
like  Braelands  ;  but  they  did  think  Sophy  ought 
to  have  visited  them  and  told  them  all  about 
her  preparations  and  future  plans.  They  were 
her  own  flesh  and  blood,  and  they  deeply 
resented  her  non-recognition  of  the  claims  of 
kindred.  Isobel,  as  the  central  figure  of  this 
dissatisfaction,  was  a  very  important  person. 
She  at  least  had  received  "cards,"  and  the  rest 
of  the  cousins  to  the  sixth  degree  felt  that  they 
had  been  grossly  slighted  in  the  omission.  So 
105 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

Isobel,  for  the  sake  of  her  own  popularity,  was 
compelled  to  make  common  cause,  and  to  assert 
positively  that  "  she  thought  little  of  the  com 
pliment.  Sophy  only  wanted  her  folk  to  know 
she  was  now  Mistress  Braelands;  and  she  had 
picked  her  out  to  carry  the  news  —  good  or  bad 
news,  none  yet  could  say." 

Janet  was  not  inclined  to  discuss  the  matter 
with  her.  She  was  so  cold  about  it,  that  Isobel 
quickly  discovered  she  had  "  work  to  finish  at 
her  own  house ;  "  for  she  recollected  that  if  the 
Binnies  were  not  inclined  to  talk  over  the  affair, 
there  were  plenty  of  wives  and  maids  in  Pit- 
tendurie  who  were  eager  to  do  so.  So  Janet 
and  Christina  were  quickly  left  to  their  own 
opinions  on  the  marriage,  the  first  of  which 
was,  that  "  Sophy  had  behaved  very  badly  to 
them." 

"  But  I  was  n't  going  to  say  bad  words  for 
Isobel  to  clash  round  the  village,"  said  Janet, 
"  and  I  am  gey  glad  Andrew  took  the  news  so 
man-like  and  so  Christian-like.  They  can't 
make  any  speculations  about  Andrew  now  ;  and 
that  will  be  a  sore  disappointment  to  the  hussies, 
for  some  of  them  are  but  ill-willy  creatures." 

"  I  am  glad  Andrew  kept  a  brave  heart,  and 
could  bring  good  words  out  of  it." 

"  What  else  would  you  expect  from  Andrew  ? 
Do  you  think  Andrew  Binnie  will  fret  himself 
1 06 


THE   LOST   BRIDE 

one  moment  about  a  wife  that  is  not  his  wife  ? 
He  would  not  give  the  de'il  such  a  laugh  over 
him.  You  may  take  my  word,  that  he  will 
break  no  commandment  for  any  lass  ;  and  Sophy 
Braelands  will  now  have  to  vacate  his  very 
thoughts." 

"  I  am  glad  she  is  married  then.  If  her  mar 
riage  cures  Andrew  of  that  never-ending  fret 
about  her,  it  will  be  a  comfort." 

"  It  is  a  cure,  sure  as  death,  as  far  as  your 
brother  is  concerned.  Fancy  Andrew  Binnie 
pining  and  worrying  about  Archie  Braelands's 
wife  !  The  thing  would  be  sinful,  and  therefore 
fairly  impossible  to  him  !  I  'm  as  glad  as  you 
are  that  no  worse  than  marriage  has  come  to 
the  lass ;  she  is  done  with  now,  and  I  am 
wishing  her  no  more  ill  than  she  has  called  to 
herself." 

"  She  has  brought  sorrow  enough  to  our 
house,"  said  Christina.  "  All  the  days  of  my 
own  courting  have  been  saddened  and  darkened 
with  the  worry  and  the  care  of  her.  Andrew 
was  always  either  that  set  up  or  that  knocked 
down  about  her,  that  he  could  not  give  a 
thought  to  Jamie's  and  my  affairs.  It  was  only 
when  you  talked  about  Sophy,  or  his  wedding 
with  Sophy,  that  he  looked  as  if  the  world  was 
worth  living  in.  He  was  fast  growing  into  a 
real  selfish  man." 

107 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  Toots  \  Every  one  in  love  —  men  or 
women  —  are  as  selfish  as  they  can  be.  The 
whole  round  world  only  holds  two  folk:  their 
own  self,  and  another.  I  would  like  to  have  a 
bit  of  chat  before  long,  that  did  not  set  itself  to 
love-making  and  marrying." 

"  Goodness,  Mother !  You  have  not  chatted 
much  with  me  lately  about  love-making  and 
marrying.  Andrew's  trouble  has  rilled  the  house, 
and  you  have  hardly  said  a  word  about  poor 
Jamie,  who  never  gave  either  of  us  a  heartache. 
I  wonder  where  he  is  to-day !  " 

Janet  thought  a  moment  and  then  answered : 
"  He  would  leave  New  York  for  Scotland,  last 
Saturday.  'T  is  Wednesday  morning  now,  and 
he  will  maybe  reach  Glasgow  next  Tuesday. 
Then  it  will  not  take  him  many  hours  to  find 
himself  in  Pittendurie." 

"  I  doubt  it.  He  will  not  be  let  come  and  go 
as  he  wants  to.  It  would  not  be  reasonable. 
He  will  have  to  obey  orders.  And  when  he  gets 
off,  it  will  be  a  kind  of  favour.  A  steamboat  and  a 
fishing-boat  are  two  different  things,  Mother; 
forbye,  Jamie  is  but  a  new  hand,  and  will  have 
his  way  to  win." 

"  What  are  you  talking  about,  you  silly,  fear 
ful  lassie?  It  would  be  a  poor-like,  heartless 
captain,  that  had  not  a  fellow-feeling  for  a  lad 
in  love.  Jamie  will  just  have  to  tell  him  about 
108 


THE   LOST   BRIDE 

yourself,  and  he  will  send  the  lad  off  with  a 
laugh,  or  maybe  a  charge  not  to  forget  the 
ship's  sailing-day.  Hope  well,  and  have  well, 
lassie." 

"You'll  be  far  mistaken,  Mother.  I  am  not 
expecting  Jamie  for  more  than  two  or  three 
trips  —  but  he  '11  be  thinking  of  me,  and  I  can 
not  help  thinking  of  him." 

"Think  away,  Christina.  Loving  thoughts 
keep  out  others,  not  as  good.  I  wonder  how  it 
would  do  to  walk  as  far  as  Largo,  and  find  out 
all  about  the  marriage  from  Griselda  Kilgour. 
Then  I  would  have  the  essentials,  and  some 
thing  worth  telling  and  talking  about." 

"  I  would  go,  Mother.  Griselda  will  be 
thirsty  to  tell  all  she  knows,  and  just  distracted 
with  the  glory  of  her  niece.  She  will  hold  her 
self  very  high,  no  doubt." 

"  Griselda  and  her  niece  are  two  born  fools, 
and  I  am  not  to  be  put  to  the  wall  by  the  like 
of  them.  And  it  is  not  beyond  hoping,  that  I  '11 
be  able  to  give  the  woman  a  mouthful  of  sound 
advice.  She 's  a  set-up  body,  but  I  shall  dis 
approve  of  all  she  says." 

"  You  may  disapprove  till  you  are  black  in 
the  face,  Mother,  but  Griselda  will  hold  her 
own ;  she  is  neither  flightersome,  nor  easy 
frightened.  I  'm  feared  it  is  going  to  rain.  I 
see  the  glass  has  fallen." 
109 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THF   NETS 

"  I  'm  not  minding  the  '  glass.'  The  sky  is 
clear,  and  I  think  far  more  of  the  sky,  and  the 
look  of  it,  than  I  do  of  the  *  glass.'  I  wonder  at 
Andrew  hanging  it  in  our  house ;  it  is  just  sin 
ful  and  unlucky  to  be  taking  the  change  of  the 
weather  out  of  His  hands.  But  rain  or  fine,  I 
am  going  to  Largo." 

As  she  spoke,  she  was  taking  out  of  her  kist 
a  fine  Paisley  shawl  and  a  bonnet,  and  with 
Christina's  help  she  was  soon  dressed  to  her 
own  satisfaction.  Fortunately  one  of  the  fishers 
was  going  with  his  cart  to  Largo,  so  she  got  a 
lift  over  the  road,  and  reached  Griselda  Kilgour's 
early  in  the  afternoon.  There  were  no  bonnets 
and  caps  in  the  window  of  the  shop,  and  when 
Janet  entered,  the  place  had  a  covered-up,  Sab 
bath-day  look  that  kindled  her  curiosity.  The 
ringing  of  the  bell  quickly  brought  Mistress 
Kilgour  forward,  and  she  also  had  an  unusual 
look.  But  she  seemed  pleased  to  see  Janet, 
and  very  heartily  asked  her  into  the  little  par 
lour  behind. 

"  I  'm  just  home,"  she  said,  "  and  I  'm  making 
myself  a  cup  of  tea  ere  I  sort  up  the  shop  and 
get  to  my  day's  work  again.  Sit  down,  Janet, 
and  take  off  your  things,  and  have  a  cup  with 
me.  Strange  days  and  strange  doings  in  them 
lately !  " 

"  You  may  well  lift  up  your  eyes  and  your 
HO 


THE   LOST   BRIDE 

hands,  Grisclda.  I  never  heard  tell  of  the  like. 
The  whole  village  is  in  a  flustration ;  and  I  just 
came  o'er-by,  to  find  out  from  you  the  long  and 
the  short  of  everything.  I  'm  feared  you  have 
been  sorely  put  about  with  the  wilful  lass." 

"  Mistress  Braelands  had  no  one  to  lippen  to 
but  me.  I  had  everything  to  look  after.  The 
Master  of  Braelands  was  that  far  gone  in  love, 
he  was  n't  to  be  trusted  with  anything.  But  my 
niece  has  done  a  good  job  for  herself." 

"  It  is  well  some  one  has  got  good  out  of  her 
treachery.  She  brought  sorrow  enough  to  my 
house.  But  I  'm  glad  it  is  all  over,  and  that 
Braelands  has  got  her.  She  would  n't  have 
suited  my  son  at  all,  Griselda." 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  answered  the  dressmaker 
with  an  air  of  offence.  "  How  many  lumps  of 
sugar,  Janet?  " 

"  I  'm  not  taking  sugar.  Where  was  the  lass 
married?  " 

"  In  Edinburgh.  We  did  n't  want  any  talk 
and  fuss  about  the  wedding,  and  Braelands  he 
said  to  me,  '  Mistress  Kilgour,  if  you  will  take  a 
little  holiday,  and  go  with  Sophy  to  Edinburgh, 
and  give  her  your  help  about  the  things  she 
requires,  we  shall  both  of  us  be  your  life-long 
debtors.'  And  I  thought  Edinburgh  was  the 
proper  place,  and  so  I  went  with  Sophy  —  put 
ting  up  a  notice  on  the  shop  door  that  I  had  gone 
in 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

to  look  at  the  winter  fashions,  and  would  be 
back  to-day  —  and  here  I  am,  for  I  like  to  keep 
my  word." 

"  You  didn't  keep  it  with  my  Andrew;  for 
you  promised  to  help  him  with  Sophy,  you 
promised  that  more  than  once  or  twice." 

"  No  one  can  help  a  man  who  fights  against 
himself,  and  Andrew  never  did  prize  Sophy  as 
Braelands  did ;  the  way  that  man  ran  after  the 
lass,  and  coaxed,  and  courted,  and  pleaded  with 
her  !  And  the  bonnie  things  he  gave  her  !  And 
the  stone  blind  infatuation  of  the  creature  !  Well, 
I  never  saw  the  like.  He  was  that  far  gone  in 
love,  there  was  nothing  for  him  but  standing  up 
before  the  minister." 

"  What  minister?" 

"  Dr.  Beith  of  St.  Andrews.  Braelands  sits  in 
St.  Andrews,  when  he  is  in  Edinburgh  for  the 
winter  season,  and  Dr.  Beith  is  knowing  him  well. 
I  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  dresses  and  the 
mantillas,  the  bonnets  and  the  fineries  of  every 
sort  I  had  to  buy  Sophy,  not  to  speak  of  the 
rings  and  gold  chains  and  bracelets  and  such 
things,  that  Braelands  just  laid  down  at  her  feet." 

"What  kind  of  dresses?" 

"  Silks  and  satins  —  white  for  the  wedding- 
dress —  and  pink,  and  blue,  and  tartan,  and  what 
not!  I  tell  you  McFinlay  and  Co.  were  kept 
busy  day  and  night  for  Sophy  Braelands." 
112 


THE   LOST   BRIDE 

Then  Mistress  Kilgour  entered  into  a  minute 
description  of  all  Sophy's  beautiful  things,  and 
Janet  listened  attentively,  not  only  for  her  own 
gratification,  but  also  for  that  of  every  woman 
in  Pittendurie.  Indeed  she  appeared  so  inter 
ested  that  her  entertainer  never  suspected  the 
anger  she  was  restraining  with  difficulty  until 
her  curiosity  had  been  satisfied.  But  when 
every  point  had  been  gone  over,  when  the  last 
thing  about  Sophy's  dress  and  appearance  had 
been  told  and  discussed,  Janet  suddenly  in 
quired,  "  Have  they  come  back  to  Largo  yet?  " 

"  Indeed  nothing  so  common,"  answered  Gri- 
selda,  proudly.  "They  have  gone  to  foreign 
lands  —  to  France,  and  Italy,  and  Germany,"  — 
and  then  with  a  daring  imagination  she  added, 
"  and  it's  like  they  won't  stop  short  of  Asia  and 
America." 

"  Well,  Jamie  Logan,  my  Christina's  promised 
man  is  on  the  American  line.  I  dare  say  he 
will  be  seeing  her  on  his  ship,  and  no  doubt  he 
will  do  all  he  can  to  pleasure  her." 

"Jamie  Logan!  Sophy  would  not  think  of 
noticing  him  now.  It  would  not  be  proper." 

"  What  for  not?  He  is  as  good  a  man  as 
Archie  Braelands,  and  if  all  reports  be  true,  a 
good  deal  better." 

"  Archie  indeed  !  I  'm  thinking  '  Master  Brae- 
lands '  would  be  more  as  it  should  be." 
«  113 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  I  '11  never  '  master  '  him.  He  is  no  '  mas 
ter'  of  mine.  What  for  does  he  have  a  Chris 
tian  name,  if  he  is  not  to  be  called  by  it?  " 

"  Well,  Janet,  you  need  not  show  your  temper. 
Goodness  knows,  it  is  as  short  as  a  cat's 
hair.  And  Braelands  is  beyond  your  tongue, 
anyhow." 

"  I  'm  not  giving  him  a  word.  Sophy  will  pay 
every  debt  he  is  owing  me  and  mine.  The 
lassie  has  been  badly  guided  all  her  life,  and  as 
she  would  not  be  ruled  by  the  rudder,  sh«  must 
be  ruled  by  the  rocks." 

"  Think  shame  of  yourself!  forespeaking  ill 
to  a  new-made  bride !  How  would  you  like 
me  to  say  such  words  to  Christina?" 

"  Christina  would  never  give  occasion  for 
them.  She  is  as  true  as  steel  to  her  own  lad." 

"  Maybe  she  has  no  temptation  to  be  false. 
That  makes  a  deal  of  differ.  Anyway,  Sophy 
is  a  woman  now  in  the  married  state,  and  answer 
able  to  none  but  her  husband.  I  hope  Andrew 
is  not  fretting  more  than  might  be  expected." 

"Andrew!  Andrew  fretting!  Not  he  !  Not 
a  minute !  As  soon  as  he  knew  she  was  a  wife, 
he  cast  her  out  of  his  very  thoughts.  You  don't 
catch  Andrew  Binnie  putting  a  light-of-love 
lassie  before  a  command  of  God." 

"  I  won't  hear  you  talk  of  my  niece  —  of  the 
mistress  of  Braelands  —  in  that  kind  of  a  way, 
114 


THE   LOST   BRIDE 

Janet.     She's  our  betters  now,   and  we  be  to 
take  notice  of  the  fact" 

"  She'll  have  to  learn  and  unlearn  a  good  lot 
before  she  is  to  be  spoke  of  as  any  one's  '  bet 
ters.'  I  hope  while  she  is  seeing  the  world  she 
will  get  her  eyes  opened  to  her  own  faults ;  they 
will  give  her  plenty  to  think  of." 

"  Keep  me,  woman !  Such  a  way  to  go  on 
about  your  own  kin." 

"  She  is  no  kin  to  the  Binnies.  I  have  cast 
her  out  of  my  reckoning." 

"  She  is  Christina's  sixth  cousin." 

"  She  is  nothing  at  all  to  us.  I  never  did  set 
any  store  by  those  Orkney  folks  —  a  bad  lot ! 
A  very  selfish,  false,  bad  lot !  " 

"  You  are  speaking  of  my  people,  Janet." 

"  I  am  quite  aware  of  it,  Griselda." 

"  Then  keep  your  tongue  in  bounds." 

"  My  tongue  is  my  own." 

"  My  house  is  my  own.  And  if  you  can't 
be  civil,  I  '11  be  necessitated  to  ask  you  to 
leave  it." 

"  I  'm  going  as  soon  as  I  have  told  you  that 
you  have  the  most  gun-powdery  temper  I  ever 
came  across ;  forbye,  you  are  fairly  drunk  with 
the  conceit  and  vanity  of  Sophy's  grand  mar 
riage.  You  are  full  as  the  Baltic  with  the  pride 
of  it,  woman  !  " 

"  Temper !     It  is  you,  that  are  in  a  temper." 
"5 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  That 's  neither  here  nor  there.  I  have  my 
reasons." 

"  Reasons,  indeed  !  I  'd  like  to  see  you  reason 
able  for  once." 

"  Yes,  I  have  my  reasons.  How  was  my  lad 
Andrew  used  by  the  both  of  you  ?  And  what 
do  you  think  of  his  last  meeting  with  that  heart 
less  limmer  and  her  fine  sweetheart  ?  " 

"  Andrew  should  have  kept  himself  out  of 
their  way.  As  soon  as  Braelands  came  round 
Sophy,  Andrew  got  the  very  de'il  in  him.  I  was 
aye  feared  there  would  be  murder  laid  to  his 
name." 

"  You  need  n't  have  been  feared  for  the  like  of 
that.  Andrew  Binnie  has  enough  of  the  devil  in 
him  to  keep  the  devil  out  of  him.  Do  you  think 
he  would  put  blood  on  his  soul  for  Sophy  Traill? 
No,  not  for  twenty  lasses  better  than  her !  You 
need  n't  look  at  me  as  if  your  eyes  were  cocked 
pistols.  I  have  heard  all  I  wanted  to  hear,  and 
said  all  I  wanted  to  say,  and  now  I  '11  be  step 
ping  homeward," 

"  I  '11  be  obligated  to  you  to  go  at  once  —  the 
sooner  the  better." 

"  And  I  '11  never  speak  to  you  again  in  this 
world,  Griselda;  nor  in  the  next  world  either, 
unless  you  mend  your  manners.  Mind  that !  " 

"  You  are  just  full  of  envy,  and  all  unchari- 
tableness,  and  evil  speaking,  Janet  Binnie.  But 
116 


THE   LOST   BRIDE 

I  trust  I  have  more  of  the  grace  of  God  about 
me  than  to  return  your  ill  words. " 

"  That  may  be.  It  only  shows  folk  that  the 
grace  of  God  will  bide  with  an  old  woman  that 
no  one  else  can  bide  with." 

"  Old  woman  !    I  am  twenty  years  younger  —  " 

But  Janet  had  passed  out  of  the  room  and 
clashed  the  shop  door  behind  her  with  a  peal 
ing  ring ;  so  Griselda's  little  scream  of  indigna 
tion  never  reached  her.  It  is  likely,  however, 
she  anticipated  the  words  that  followed  her, 
for  she  went  down  the  street,  folding  her 
shawl  over  her  ample  chest,  and  smiling  the 
smile  of  those  who  have  thrown  the  last  word 
of  offence. 

She  did  not  reach  home  until  quite  dark,  for 
she  was  stopped  frequently  by  little  groups  of 
the  wives  and  maids  of  Pittendurie,  who  wanted 
to  hear  the  news  about  Sophy.  It  pleased  Janet, 
for  some  reason,  to  magnify  the  girl's  position 
and  all  the  fine  things  it  had  brought  her. 
Perhaps,  because  she  felt  dimly  that  it  placed 
Andrew's  defeat  in  a  better  light.  No  one 
could  expect  a  mere  fisherman  to  have  any 
chance  against  a  man  able  to  shower  silks 
and  satins  and  gold  and  jewels  upon  his 
bride,  and  who  could  take  her  to  France  and 
Italy  and  Germany,  not  to  speak  of  Asia  and 
America. 

117 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

But  if  this  was  her  motive,  it  was  a  bit  of 
motherhood  thrown  away.  Andrew  had  sources 
of  comfort  and  vindication  which  looked  far 
beyond  all  petty  social  opinion.  He  was  on  the 
sea  alone  till  nearly  dark ;  then  he  came  home, 
with  the  old  grave  smile  on  his  face,  saying,  as 
he  entered  the  house,  "  There  will  be  a  heavy 
blow  from  the  northeast  to-night,  Christina.  I 
see  the  boats  are  all  at  anchor,  and  no  prospect 
of  a  fishing." 

"  Ay,  and  I  saw  the  birds,  who  know  more 
than  we  do,  making  for  the  rocks.  I  wish  mother 
would  come,"  —  and  she  opened  the  door  and 
looked  out  into  the  dark  vacancy.  "  There  is 
a  voice  in  the  sea  to-night,  Andrew,  and  I  don't 
like  the  wail  of  it" 

But  Andrew  had  gone  to  his  room,  and  so 
she  left  the  door  open  until  Janet  returned. 
And  the  first  question  Janet  asked  was  con 
cerning  Andrew.  "  Has  he  come  home  yet, 
Christina?  I'm  feared  for  a  boat  on  the  sea 
to-night." 

"  He  is  home,  and  I  think  he  has  fallen  asleep. 
He  looked  very  tired." 

"  How  is  he  taking  his  trouble  ?  " 

"  Like  a  man.  Like  himself.  He  has  had 
his  wrestle  out  on  the  sea,  and  has  come  out 
with  a  victory." 

"  The  Lord  be  thanked !  Now,  Christina, 
118 


THE   LOST   BRIDE 

I  have  heard  everything  about  that  wicked 
lassie.  Let  us  have  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  herring 
—  for  it  is  little  good  I  had  of  Griselda's 
wishy-washy  brew  —  and  then  I  '11  tell  you  the 
news  of  the  wedding,  the  beginning  and  the 
end  of  it." 


119 


CHAPTER    VI 

WHERE   IS   MY   MONEY? 

IN  the  morning  it  was  still  more  evident  that 
Andrew  had  thrown  himself  on  God,  and  —  un- 
perplext  seeking,  had  found  him.  But  Janet 
wondered  a  little  that  he  did  not  more  demon 
stratively  seek  the  comfort  of  The  Book.  It  was 
her  way  in  sorrow  to  appeal  immediately  to  its 
known  passages  of  promise  and  comfort;  and 
she  laid  it  open  in  his  way  with  the  remark : 

"There  is  the  Bible,  Andrew;  it  will  have  a 
word,  no  doubt,  for  you." 

"  And  there  is  the  something  beyond  the  Bible. 
Mother,  if  you  will  be  seeking  it.  When  the  Lord 
God  speaks  to  a  man,  he  has  the  perfection  of 
counsel,  and  he  will  not  be  requiring  the  word 
of  a  prophet  or  an  apostle.  From  the  heart  of 
The  Unseen  a  voice  calls  to  him,  and  gives 
him  patience  under  suffering.  I  know,  for  I 
have  heard  and  answered  it."  Then  he  walked 
to  the  door,  and  opening  it,  he  stood  there 
repeating  to  himself,  as  he  looked  over  the 
waters  which  had  been  the  field  of  his  conflict 
and  his  victory:  — 

1 20 


WHERE   IS   MY   MONEY 

"  But  peace  they  have  that  none  may  gain  that  live ; 
And  rest  about  them  that  no  love  can  give  : 
And  over  them,  while  death  and  life  shall  be, 
The  light  and  sound  and  darkness  of  the  Sea." 

It  was  a  verse  that  meant  more  to  Andrew 
than  he  would  have  been  able  to  explain.  He 
only  knew  that  it  led  him  somehow  through 
those  dim,  obscure  pathways  of  spiritual  life, 
on  which  the  light  of  common  day  does  not 
shine.  And  as  he  stood  there,  his  mother  and 
sister  felt  vaguely  that  they  knew  what  "  moral 
beauty "  meant,  and  were  the  better  for  the 
knowledge. 

He  did  not  try  to  forget  Sophy;  he  only 
placed  her  beyond  his  own  horizon ;  and  where 
as  he  had  once  thought  of  her  with  personal 
hope  and  desire,  he  now  remembered  her  only 
with  a  prayer  for  her  happiness,  or  if  by  chance 
his  tongue  spoke  her  name,  he  added  a  blessing 
with  it.  Never  did  he  make  a  complaint  of  her 
desertion,  but  he  wept  inwardly ;  and  it  was  easy 
to  see  that  he  spent  many  of  those  hours  that 
make  the  heart  grey,  though  they  leave  the 
hair  untouched.  And  it  was  at  this  time  he 
contracted  the  habit  of  frequently  looking  up, 
finding  in  the  very  act  that  sense  of  strength 
and  help  and  adoration  which  is  inseparable  to 
it.  And  thus,  day  by  day,  he  overcame  the 
aching  sorrow  of  his  heart,  for  no  man  is  ever 

121 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

crushed  from  without ;  if  he  is  abased  to  despair, 
his  ruin  has  come  from  within. 

About  three  weeks  after  Sophy's  marriage, 
Christina  was  standing  one  evening  at  the  gloam 
ing,  looking  over  the  immense,  cheerless  waste 
of  waters.  Mists,  vague  and  troublous  as  the 
background  of  dreams,  were  on  the  horizon ; 
and  there  was  a  feeling  of  melancholy  in  the 
air.  But  she  liked  the  damp,  fresh  wind,  with 
its  taste  of  brine,  and  she  drew  her  plaid  round 
her,  and  breathed  it  with  a  sense  of  enjoyment. 
Very  soon  Andrew  came  up  the  cliff;  and  he 
stood  at  her  side,  and  they  spoke  of  Jamie  and 
wondered  at  his  whereabouts,  and  after  a  little 
pause,  Andrew  added  :  — 

"  Christina,  I  got  a  very  important  letter 
to-day,  and  I  am  going  to-morrow  about  the 
business  I  told  you  of.  I  want  to  start  early  in 
the  morning,  so  put  up  what  I  need  in  my  little, 
bag.  And  I  wish  you  to  say  nothing  to  mother 
until  all  things  are  settled." 

"  She  will  maybe  ask  me  the  question, 
Andrew." 

"  I  told  her  I  was  going  about  a  new  boat, 
and  she  took  me  at  my  word  without  this  or 
that  to  it.  She  is  a  blithe  creature,  one  of  the 
Lord's  most  contented  bairns.  I  wish  we  were 
both  more  like  her." 

"  I  wish  we  were,  Andrew.  If  we  could  just 
122 


WHERE   IS   MY   MONEY 

do  as  mother  does !  for  she  leaves  yesterday 
where  it  fell,  and  trusts  to-morrow  with  God, 
and  so  catches  every  blink  of  happiness  that 
passes  by  her." 

"  God  forever  bless  her !  There  is  no  mother 
like  the  mother  that  bore  us  ;  we  must  aye 
remember  that,  Christina.  But  it  is  a  dour, 
storm-like  sky  yon,"  he  continued,  pointing 
eastward.  4<  We  shall  have  a  snoring  breeze 
before  midnight." 

Then  Christina  thought  of  her  lover  again, 
and  as  they  turned  in  to  the  fireside,  she  began 
to  tell  her  brother  her  hopes  and  fears  about 
Jamie,  and  to  read  him  portions  of  a  letter  re 
ceived  that  day  from  America.  While  Andrew's 
trouble  had  been  fresh  and  heavy  on  him,  Chris 
tina  had  refrained  herself  from  all  speech  about 
her  lover;  she  felt  instinctively  that  it  would  not 
be  welcome  and  perhaps  hardly  kind.  But  this 
night  it  fell  out  naturally,  and  Andrew  listened 
kindly  and  made  his  sister  very  happy  by  his 
interest  in  all  that  related  to  Jamie's  future. 
Then  he  ate  some  bread  and  cheese  with  the 
women,  and  after  the  exercise  went  to  his  room, 
for  he  had  many  things  to  prepare  for  his  jour 
ney  on  the  following  day. 

Janet  continued  the  conversation.  It  related 
to  her  daughter's  marriage  and  settlement  in 
Glasgow,  and  of  this  subject  she  never  wearied. 
123 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

The  storm  Andrew  had  foreseen  was  by  this 
time  raging  round  the  cottage,  the  blustering 
waves  making  strange  noises  on  the  sands  and 
falling  on  the  rocks  with  a  keen,  lashing  sound. 
It  affected  them  gradually;  their  hearts  became 
troubled,  and  they  spoke  low  and  with  sad 
inflections,  for  both  were  thinking  of  the  sailor- 
men  and  fishermen  peopling  the  lonely  waters. 

"  I  would  n't  put  out  to  sea  this  night,"  said 
Janet.  "  No,  not  for  a  capful  of  sovereigns." 

"  Yet  there  will  be  plenty  of  boats,  hammer 
ing  through  the  big  waves  all  night  long,  till  the 
dawn  shows  in  the  east;  and  it  is  very  like  that 
Jamie  is  now  on  the  Atlantic  —  a  stormy  place, 
God  knows !  " 

"  A  good  passage,  if  it  so  pleases  God  !  "  said 
Janet,  lifting  her  eyes  to  heaven,  and  Christina 
looked  kindly  at  her  mother  for  the  wish.  But 
talking  was  fast  becoming  difficult,  for  the  wind 
had  suddenly  veered  more  northerly,  and,  sleet- 
laden,  it  howled  and  shrieked  down  the  wide 
chimney.  In  one  of  the  pauses  forced  on  them 
by  this  blatant  intruder,  they  were  startled  by  a 
human  cry,  loud  and  piercing,  and  quite  distinct 
from  the  turbulent  roar  of  winds  and  waves. 

Both  women  were  on  their  feet  on  the  instant. 
Both  had  received  the  same  swift,  positive  im 
pression,  that  it  came  from  Andrew's  room,  and 
they  were  at  his  door  in  a  moment.  It  was 
124 


WHERE    IS   MY   MONEY 

locked.  They  called  him,  and  he  made  no 
answer.  Again  and  again,  with  ever  increasing 
terror,  they  entreated  him  to  open  to  them ; 
for  the  door  was  solid  and  heavy,  and  the  lock 
large  and  strong,  and  no  power  they  possessed 
could  avail  to  force  an  entrance.  He  heeded 
none  of  their  passionate  prayers  until  Janet 
began  to  cry  bitterly.  Then  he  turned  the  key 
and  they  entered. 

Andrew  looked  at  them  with  anger  ;  his  coun 
tenance  was  pale  and  distraught,  and  a  quiet 
fury  burned  in  his  eyes.  He  could  not  speak, 
and  the  women  regarded  him  with  fear  and 
wonder.  Presently  he  managed  to  articulate 
with  a  thick  difficulty:  — 

"  My  money  !     My  money !     It  is  all  gone  !  " 

11  Gone !  "  shrieked  Christina,  "  that  is  just 
impossible." 

"  It  is  all  gone  !"  Then  he  gripped  her  cruelly 
by  the  shoulder,  and  asked  in  a  fierce  whisper : 

"  What  did  you  do  with  it  ?  " 

"Me?    Andrew!" 

"  Ay,  you  !     You  wicked  lass,  you  !  " 

"  I  never  put  finger  on  it." 

"  Christina!  Christina!  To  think  that  I 
trusted  you  for  this  !  Go  out  of  my  sight,  will 
you  !  I  'm  not  able  to  bear  the  face  of  you  !  " 

"Andrew!  Andrew!  Surely,  you  are  not 
calling  me  a  'thief  ?" 

125 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"  Who,  then  ?  "  he  cried,  with  gathering  rage, 
"  unless  it  be  Jamie  Logan  ? " 

"  Don't  be  so  wicked  as  to  wrong  innocent 
folk  such  a  way ;  Jamie  never  saw,  never  heard 
tell  of  your  money.  The  unborn  babe  is  not 
more  guiltless  than  Jamie  Logan." 

"  How  do  you  know  that?  How  do  /know 
that?  The  very  night  I  told  you  of  the  money 
—  that  very  night  I  showed  you  where  I  kept 
it  —  that  night  Jamie  ought  to  have  been  in  the 
boats,  and  he  was  not  in  them.  What  do  you 
make  of  that?  " 

"  Nothing.     He  is  as  innocent  as  I  am." 

"  And  he  was  drinking  with  some  strange  man 
at  the  'public.'  What  were  they  up  to?  Tell 
me  that.  And  then  he  comes  whistling  up  the 
road,  and  says  he  missed  his  boat.  A  made  up 
story  !  and  after  it  he  goes  off  to  America  !  Oh, 
woman  !  woman !  If  you  can't  put  facts  to 
gether,  I  can." 

"  Jamie  never  touched  a  bawbee  of  your 
money.  I  '11  ware  my  life  on  that.  For  I  never 
let  on  to  any  mortal  creature  that  you  had  a 
penny  of  silent  money.  God  Almighty  knows 
I  am  speaking  the  truth." 

"  You  won't  dare  to  bring  God  Almighty's 
name  into  such  a  black  business.  Are  you  not 
feared  to  take  it  into  your  mouth?" 

Then  Janet  laid  her  hand  heavily  on  his 
126 


WHERE   IS   MY   MONEY 

shoulder.  He  had  sat  down  on  his  bed,  and 
was  leaning  heavily  against  one  of  the  posts, 
and  the  very  fashion  of  his  countenance  was 
changed  ;  his  hair  stood  upright,  and  he  con 
tinually  smote  his  large,  nervous  hands  together. 

"  Andrew,"  said  his  mother,  angrily,  "  you  are 
just  giving  yourself  up  to  Satan.  Your  passion 
is  beyond  seeing,  or  hearing  tell  of.  And  think 
shame  of  yourself  for  calling  your  sister  a  '  thief ' 
and  a  '  liar '  and  what  not.  I  wonder  what 's 
come  over  you  !  Step  ben  the  house,  and  talk 
reasonable  to  us." 

"  Leave  me  to  myself!  Leave  me  to  myself! 
I  tell  you  both  to  go  away.  Will  you  go  ?  both 
of  you? " 

"  I  'm  your  mother,  Andrew." 

"  Then  for  God's  sake  have  pity  on  me,  and 
leave  me  alone  with  my  sorrow  !  Go !  Go  ! 
I  'm  not  a  responsible  creature  just  now  —  "  and 
his  passion  was  so  stern  and  terrific  that  neither 
of  them  dared  to  face  any  increase  of  it. 

So  they  left  him  alone  and  went  back  to  the 
sputtering  fireside  —  for  the  rain  was  now  beat 
ing  down  the  chimney  —  and  in  awe-struck 
whispers  Christina  told  her  mother  of  the  money 
which  Andrew  had  hoarded  through  long  la 
borious  years,  and  of  the  plans  which  the  loss 
of  it  would  break  to  pieces. 

"  There  would  be  a  thousand  pounds,  or  near 
127 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

by  it,  Mother,  I  'm  thinking,"  said  Christina. 
"  You  know  well  how  scrimping  with  himself 
he  has  been.  Good  fishing  or  bad  fishing,  he 
never  had  a  shilling  to  spend  on  any  one.  He 
bought  nothing  other  boys  bought;  when  he 
was  a  laddie,  and  when  he  grew  to  the  boats, 
you  may  mind  that  he  put  all  he  made  away 
somewhere.  And  he  made  a  deal  more  than 
folks  thought.  He  had  a  bit  venture  here,  and 
a  bit  there,  and  they  must  have  prospered 
finely." 

"Not  they!"  said  Janet  angrily.  "What 
good  has  come  of  them?  What  good  cotild 
come  of  money,  hid  away  from  everybody  but 
himself?  Why  did  n't  he  tell  his  mother  ?  If 
her  thoughts  had  been  round  about  his  siller, 
it  would  not  have  gone  an  ill  road.  A  man  who 
hides  away  his  money  is  just  a  miracle  of  stupid 
ity,  for  the  devil  knows  where  it  is  if  no  decent 
human  soul  does." 

It  was  a  mighty  sorrow  to  bear,  even  for  the 
two  women,  and  Janet  wept  like  a  child  over 
the  hopes  blasted  before  she  knew  of  them. 
"  He  should  have  told  us  both  long  since,"  she 
sobbed.  "  I  would  have  been  praying  for  the 
bonnie  ship  building  for  him,  every  plank  would 
have  been  laid  with  a  blessing.  And  as  I  sat  quiet 
in  my  house,  I  would  have  been  thinking  of  my 
son  Captain  Binnie,  and  many  a  day  would  have 
128 


WHERE    IS   MY   MONEY 

been  a  bright  day,  that  has  been  but  a  middling 
one.     So  selfish  as  the  lad  has  been  !  " 

"  Maybe  it  was  n't  pure  selfishness,  Mother. 
He  was  saving  for  a  good  end." 

"  It  was  pure  selfishness  !  He  was  that  way 
even  about  Sophy.  Nobody  but  himself  must 
have  word  or  look  from  her,  and  the  lassie  just 
wearied  of  him.  Why  would  n't  she?  He  put 
himself  and  her  in  a  circle,  and  then  made  a 
wilderness  all  round  about  it.  And  Sophy 
wanted  company,  for  when  a  girl  says  '  a  man  is 
all  the  world  to  her,'  she  does  n't  mean  that 
nobody  else  is  to  come  into  her  world.  She 
would  be  a  wicked  lass  if  she  did." 

"  Well,  Mother,  he  lost  her,  and  he  bore  his 
loss  like  a  man." 

11  Ay,  men  often  bear  the  loss  of  love  easier 
than  the  loss  of  money.  I  've  seen  far  more 
fuss  made  over  the  loss  of  a  set  of  fishing-nets, 
than  over  the  brave  fellows  that  handled  them. 
And  to  think  of  our  Andrew  hiding  away  his 
gold  all  these  years  for  his  own  hoping  and 
pleasuring !  A  perfectly  selfish  pleasuring ! 
The  gold  might  well  take  wings  to  itself  and  fly 
away.  He  should  have  clipped  the  wings  of  it 
with  giving  a  piece  to  the  kirk  now  and  then, 
and  a  piece  to  his  mother  and  sister  at  odd 
times,  and  the  flying  would  n't  have  been  so 
easy.  Now  he  has  lost  the  whole,  and  he  well 
9  129 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

deserves  it.  I  'm  thinking  his  Maker  is  dourly 
angry  with  him  for  such  ways,  and  I  am  angry 
myself." 

"  Ah  well,  Mother,  there  is  no  use  in  our  anger ; 
the  lad  is  suffering  enough,  and  for  the  rest  we 
must  just  leave  him  to  the  general  mercy  of  God." 

"  '  General  mercy  of  God.'  Don't  let  me  hear 
you  use  the  like  of  such  words,  Christina.  The 
minister  would  tell  you  it  is  a  very  loose  ex 
pression  and  a  very  dangerous  doctrine.  He 
was  reproving  Elder  Mclnnes  for  them  very 
words,  and  any  good  minister  will  be  keeping 
his  thumb  on  such  a  wide  outgate.  Andrew 
knows  well  that  he  has  to  have  the  particular 
and  elected  grace  of  God  to  keep  him  where  he 
ought  to  be.  This  hid-away  money  has  given 
him  a  sore  tumble,  and  I  will  tell  him  so  very 
plainly." 

"  Don't  trouble  him,  Mother.  He  will  not 
bear  words  on  it,  even  from  you." 

"  He  will  have  to  bear  them.  I  am  not  feared 
for  Andrew  Binnie,  and  he  shall  not  be  left  in 
ignorance  of  his  sin.  Whether  he  knows  it  or 
not,  he  has  done  a  deed  that  would  make  a  very 
poor  kind  of  a  Christian  ashamed  to  look  the 
devil  in  the  face ;  and  I  be  to  let  him  know  it." 

But  in  the  morning  Andrew  looked  so  utterly 
wretched,  that  Janet  could  only  pity  him.  "  I  '11 
not  be  the  one  to  break  the  bruised  reed,"  she 
130 


WHERE    IS   MY   MONEY 

said  to  Christina,  for  the  miserable  man  sat  silent 
with  dropped  eyes  the  whole  day  long,  eating 
nothing,  seeing  nothing,  and  apparently  lost  to 
all  interests  outside  his  own  bewildering,  utterly 
hopeless  speculations.  It  was  not  until  another 
letter  came  about  the  ship  he  was  to  command, 
that  he  roused  himself  sufficiently  to  write  and 
cancel  the  whole  transaction.  He  could  not 
keep  his  promises  financially,  and  though  he 
was  urged  to  make  some  other  offer,  he  would 
have  nothing  from  The  Fleet  on  any  humbler 
basis  than  his  first  proposition.  With  a  foolish 
pride,  born  of  his  great  disappointment  and 
anger,  he  turned  his  back  on  his  broken  hopes, 
and  went  sullen  and  sorrowful  back  to  his  fish 
ing-boat. 

He  had  never  been  even  in  his  family  a  very 
social  man.  Jokes  and  songs  and  daffing  of  all 
kinds  were  alien  to  his  nature.  Yet  his  grave 
and  pleasant  smile  had  been  a  familiar  thing, 
and  gentle  words  had  always  hitherto  come 
readily  to  his  lips.  But  after  his  ruinous  loss, 
he  seldom  spoke  unless  it  was  to  his  mother. 
Christina  he  noticed  not,  either  by  word  or 
look,  and  the  poor  girl  was  broken-hearted 
under  this  silent  accusation.  For  she  felt  that 
Andrew  doubted  both  her  and  Jamie,  and 
though  she  was  indignant  at  the  suspicion,  it  eat 
its  way  into  her  heart  and  tortured  her. 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

For  put  the  thought  away  as  she  would,  the 
fact  of  Jamie's  dereliction  that  unfortunate  night 
would  return  and  return,  and  always  with  a 
more  suspicious  aspect.  Who  was  the  man  he 
was  drinking  with?  Nobody  in  the  village,  but 
Jamie,  knew  him.  He  had  come  and  gone  in 
a  night.  It  was  possible  that,  having  missed 
the  boat,  Jamie  had  brought  his  friend  up  the 
cliff  to  call  on  her;  that,  seeing  the  light  in 
Andrew's  room,  they  had  looked  in  at  the 
window,  and  so  might  have  seen  Andrew  and 
herself  standing  over  the  money,  and  then 
watched  until  it  was  returned  to  its  hiding-place. 
Jamie  had  come  whistling  in  a  very  pronounced 
manner  up  to  the  house  —  that  might  have 
been  because  he  had  been  drinking,  and  then 
again,  it  might  not  —  and  then  there  was  his 
quarrel  with  Andrew  !  Was  that  a  planned  affair, 
in  order  to  give  the  other  man  time  to  carry  off 
the  box?  She  could  not  remember  whether 
the  curtain  had  been  drawn  across  the  window 
or  not;  and  when  she  dared  to  name  this  doubt 
to  Andrew,  he  only  answered :  — 

"  What  for  are  you  asking  after  spilled  milk?  " 
The  whole    circumstance  was   so    mysterious 
that  it  stupified  her.     And  yet  she  felt  that  it 
contained  all  the  elements  of  sorrow  and  separa 
tion  between  Jamie  and  herself.     However,  she 
kept  assuring  her  heart  that  Jamie  would  be  in 
132 


WHERE   IS   MY   MONEY 

Glasgow  the  following  week;  and  she  wrote  a 
letter  to  meet  him,  expressing  a  strong  desire 
that  he  would  "  be  sure  to  come  to  Pittendurie, 
as  there  was  most  important  business."  But  she 
did  not  like  to  tell  him  what  the  business  was, 
and  Jamie  did  not  answer  the  request.  In  fact, 
the  lad  could  not,  without  resigning  his  position 
entirely.  The  ship  had  been  delayed  thirty 
hours  by  storms,  and  there  was  nearly  double 
tides  of  work  for  every  man  on  her  in  order  that 
she  might  be  able  to  keep  her  next  sailing  day. 
Jamie  was  therefore  so  certain  that  a  request  to 
go  on  shore  about  his  own  concerns  would  be 
denied,  that  he  did  not  even  ask  the  favour. 

But  he  wrote  to  Christina,  and  explained  to 
her  in  the  most  loving  manner  the  impossibility 
of  his  leaving  his  duties.  He  said  "  that  for  her 
sake,  as  well  as  his  own,  he  was  obligated  to 
remain  at  his  post,"  and  he  assured  her  that 
this  obligation  was  "  a  reasonable  one."  Chris 
tina  believed  him  fully,  and  was  satisfied ;  her 
mother  only  smiled  with  shut  lips  and  remained 
silent;  but  Andrew  spoke  with  a  bitterness  it 
was  hard  to  forgive ;  still  harder  was  it  to  escape 
from  the  wretched  inferences  his  words  implied. 

"No  wonder  he  keeps  away  from  Pittendurie  !  " 

he    said  with  a  scornful   laugh.     "  He  '11   come 

here  no    more — unless   he    is  made  to   come; 

and  if  it  was  not  for  mother's  sake,  and  for  your 

133 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

good  name,  Christina,  I  would  send  the  con 
stables  to  the  ship  to  bring  him  here  this  very 
day." 

And  Christina  could  make  no  answer,  save 
that  of  passionate  weeping.  For  it  shocked  her 
to  see,  that  her  mother  did  not  stand  up  for 
Jamie,  but  went  silently  about  her  house  duties, 
with  a  face  as  inscrutable  as  the  figure-head  of 
Andrew's  boat. 

Thus  backward,  every  way,  flew  the  wheels  of 
life  in  the  Binnie  cottage.  Andrew  took  a  grim 
pleasure  in  accepting  his  poverty  before  his 
mother  and  sister.  In  the  home  he  made  them 
feel  that  everything  but  the  barest  necessities 
were  impossible  wants.  His  newspaper  was 
resigned ;  his  pipe  also,  after  a  little  struggle. 
He  took  his  tea  without  sugar;  he  put  the  butter 
and  marmalade  aside,  as  if  they  were  sinful 
luxuries  ;  and  in  fact  reduced  his  life  to  the 
most  essential  and  primitive  conditions  it  was 
possible  to  live  it  on.  And  as  Janet  and  Chris 
tina  were  not  the  bread  winners,  and  did  not 
know  the  exact  state  of  the  Binnie  finances,  they 
felt  obliged  to  follow  Andrew's  example.  Of 
course,  all  Christina's  little  extravagances  of 
wedding  preparations  were  peremptorily  stopped. 
There  would  be  no  silk  wedding-gown  now.  It 
began  to  look,  as  if  there  would  be  no  wedding 
at  all. 

134 


WHERE   IS   MY   MONEY 

For  Andrew's  continual  suspicions,  spoken 
and  unspoken,  insensibly  affected  her  ;  and  that 
in  spite  of  her  angry  denials  of  them.  She 
fought  against  their  influence,  but  often  in  vain ; 
for  Jamie  did  not  come  to  Pittendurie  either 
after  the  second  or  the  third  voyage.  He  was 
not  to  blame ;  it  was  the  winter  season,  and 
delays  were  constant,  and  there  were  other  cir 
cumstances —  with  which  he  had  nothing  what 
ever  to  do  —  that  still  put  him  in  such  a  position 
that  to  ask  for  leave  of  absence  meant  asking  for 
his  dismissal.  And  then  there  would  be  no  pros 
pect  at  all  of  his  marriage  with  Christina. 

But  the  fisher  folk,  who  had  their  time  very 
much  at  their  own  command,  and  who  were 
nursed  in  a  sense  of  every  individual's  indepen 
dence,  did  not  realise  Jamie's  dilemma.  It 
could  not  be  made  intelligent  to  them,  and  they 
began  to  wonder,  and  to  ask  embarrassing  ques 
tions.  Very  soon  there  was  a  shake  of  the 
head  and  a  sigh  of  pity  whenever  "  poor  Chris 
tina  Binnie  "  was  mentioned. 

So  four  wretched  months  went  by,  and  then 
one  moonlight  night  in  February,  Christina 
heard  the  quick  footstep  and  the  joyous  whistle 
she  knew  so  well.  She  stood  up  trembling 
with  pleasure;  and  as  Jamie  flung  wide  the 
door,  she  flew  to  his  arms  with  an  irrepressible 
cry.  For  some  minutes  he  saw  nothing  and 
135 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

cared  for  nothing  but  the  girl  clasped  to  his 
breast;  but  as  she  began  to  sob,  he  looked  at 
Janet  —  who  had  purposely  gone  to  the  china 
rack  that  she  might  have  her  back  to  him  —  and 
then  at  Andrew  who  stood  white  and  stern, 
with  both  hands  in  his  pockets,  regarding  him. 

The  young  man  was  confounded  by  this 
reception;  he  released  himself  from  Chistina's 
embrace,  and  stepping  forward,  asked  anxiously : 
"What  ever  is  the  matter  with  you,  Andrew? 
You  are  n't  like  yourself  at  all.  Why,  you  are 
ill,  man !  Oh,  but  I  'in  vexed  to  see  you  so 
changed." 

"  Where  is  my  money,  James  Logan?  Where 
is  the  gold  and  the  bank-notes  you  took  from 
me?  —  the  savings  of  all  my  lifetime." 

"  Your  money,  Andrew?  Your  gold  and 
bank-notes?  Afetake  your  money!  Why,  man, 
you  are  either  mad  or  joking — and  I'm  not 
liking  such  jokes  either."  Then  he  turned  to 
Christina  and  asked,  "  What  does  he  mean,  my 
dearie?" 

"  I  mean  this,"  cried  Andrew  with  gathering 
passion,  "  I  mean  that  I  had  nearly  a  thousand 
pounds  taken  out  of  my  room  yon  night  that 
you  should  have  gone  to  the  boats  —  and  that 
you  did  not  go." 

"  Do  you  intend  to  say  that  I  took  your 
thousand  pounds?  Mind  your  words,  Andrew 

136 


WHERE    IS    MY   MONEY 

Binnie !  "  and  as  he  spoke,  he  put  Christina 
behind  him  and  stood  squarely  before  Andrew. 
And  his  face  was  a  flame  of  passion. 

"  I  am  most  sure  you  took  it.  Prove  to  me 
that  you  did  not." 

Before  the  words  were  finished,  they  were 
answered  with  a  blow ;  the  blow  was  promptly 
returned;  and  then  the  two  men  closed  in  a 
deadly  struggle.  Christina  was  white  and  sick 
with  terror,  but  withal  glad  that  Andrew  had 
found  himself  so  promptly  answered.  Janet 
turned  sharply  at  the  first  blow,  and  threw  her 
self  between  the  men.  All  the  old  prowess  of 
the  fish-wife  was  roused  in  her. 

"How  dare  you?"  she  cried  in  a  temper 
quite  equal  to  their  own.  "  I  '11  have  no  cursing 
and  fighting  in  my  house;  "  and  with  a  twist  of 
her  hand  in  her  son's  collar,  she  threw  him  back 
in  his  chair.  Then  she  turned  to  Jamie  and 
cried  angrily:  - 

"  Jamie  Logan,  my  bonnie  lad,  if  you  have 
got  nothing  to  say  for  yourself,  you'll  do  well  to 
take  your  way  down  the  cliff." 

"I  have  been  called  a  'thief  in  this  house," 
he  answered;  and  wounded  feeling  and  a  bitter 
sense  of  wrong  made  his  voice  tremble.  "  I 
came  here  to  kiss  my  bride ;  and  I  know  noth 
ing  at  all  of  what  Andrew  means.  I  will  swear 
it.  Give  me  the  Bible." 
137 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  Let  my  Bible  alone,"  shouted  Andrew. 
"  I  '11  have  no  man  swear  to  a  lie  on  my  Bible. 
Get  out  of  my  house,  James  Logan;  and  be 
thankful  that  I  don't  call  the  officers  to  take 
care  of  you." 

"  There  is  a  mad  man  inside  of  you,  Andrew 
Binnie,  or  a  devil  of  some  kind,  and  you  are  not 
fit  to  be  in  the  same  house  with  good  women. 
Come  with  me,  Christina.  I  '11  marry  you  to 
night  at  the  Largo  minister's  house.  Come,  my 
dear  lassie.  Never  mind  aught  you  have,  but 
your  plaidie." 

Christina  rose  and  put  out  her  hand.  Andrew 
leaped  to  his  feet  and  strode  between  them. 

"I  will  strike  you  to  the  ground,  if  you  dare 
to  touch  my  sister  again,"  he  shouted,  and  if 
Janet  had  not  taken  both  his  hands  in  her  own 
strong  grip,  Andrew  would  have  kept  his  threat. 
Then  Janet's  anger  turned  most  unreasonably 
upon  Christina  — 

"  Go  ben  the  house,"  she  screamed.  "  Go 
ben  the  house,  you  worrying,  whimpering  lassie. 
You  will  be  having  the  whole  village  fighting 
about  you  the  next  thing." 

"  I  am  going  with  Jamie,  Mother." 

"  I  will  take  very  good  care,  you  do  not  go 
with  Jamie.  There  is  not  a  soul,  but  Jamie 
Logan,  will  leave  this  house  to-night.  I  would 
just  like  to  see  any  other  man  or  woman  try 

138 


WHERE   IS   MY   MONEY 

it,"  and  she  looked  defiantly  both  at  Andrew 
and  Christina. 

"  I  ran  the  risk  of  losing  my  berth  to  come 
here,"  said  Jamie.  "  More  fool,  I.  I  have  been 
called  '  thief  and  '  loon  '  for  doing  it  I  came 
for  your  sake,  Christina,  and  now  you  must 
go  with  me  for  my  sake.  Come  away,  my 
dearie,  and  there  is  none  that  shall  part  us 
more." 

Again  Christina  rose,  and  again  her  mother 
interfered.  "  You  will  go  out  of  this  house 
alone,  Jamie  Logan.  I  don't  know  whether  you 
are  right  or  wrong.  I  know  nothing  about  that 
weary  siller.  But  I  do  know  there  has  been 
nothing  but  trouble  to  my  boy  since  he  saved 
you  from  the  sea.  I  am  not  saying  it  is  your 
fault;  but  the  sea  has  been  against  him  ever 
since,  and  now  you  will  go  away,  and  you  will 
stay  away." 

"  Christina,  am  I  to  go?  " 

"  Go,  Jamie,  but  I  will  come  to  you,  and  there 
is  none  that  shall  keep  me  from  you." 

Then  Jamie  went,  and  far  down  on  the  sands 
Christina  heard  him  call,  "  Good-bye,  Christina! 
Good-bye ! "  And  she  would  have  answered 
him,  but  Janet  had  locked  the  door,  and  the  key 
was  in  her  pocket.  Then  for  hours  the  domestic 
storm  raged,  Andrew  growing  more  and  more 
positive  and  passionate,  until  even  Janet  was 
139 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

alarmed,  and  with  tears  and  coaxing  persuaded 
him  to  go  to  bed.  Still  in  this  hurly-burly  of 
temper,  Christina  kept  her  purpose  intact.  She 
was  determined  to  go  to  Glasgow  as  soon  as  she 
could  get  outside.  If  she  was  in  time  for  a  mar 
riage  with  Jamie,  she  would  be  his  wife  at  once. 
If  Jamie  had  gone,  then  she  would  hire  herself 
out  until  the  return  of  his  ship. 

This  was  the  purpose  she  intended  to  carry 
out  in  the  morning;  but  before  the  dawn  her 
mother  awakened  her  out  of  a  deep  sleep.  She 
was  in  a  sweat  of  terror. 

"  Run  up  the  cliff  for  Thomas  Roy,"  she 
cried,  "  and  then  send  Sandy  for  the  doctor." 

"What  is  the  matter,  Mother." 

"  Your  brother  Andrew  is  raving,  and  clean 
beyond  himself;  and  I  'm  feared  for  him,  and 
for  us  all.  Quick  Christina !  There  is  not  a 
moment  to  lose  !  " 


140 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  END 

ON  this  same  night  the  Mistress  of  Braelands 
sat  musing  by  the  glowing  bit  of  fire  in  her  bed 
room,  while  her  maid,  Allister,  was  folding  away 
her  silk  dinner-gown,  and  making  the  prepara 
tions  for  the  night's  toilet.  She  was  a  stately, 
stern-looking  woman,  with  that  air  of  authority 
which  comes  from  long  and  recognised  position. 
Pier  dressing-gown  of  pale  blue  flannel  fell  amply 
around  her  tall  form ;  her  white  hair  was  still 
coiled  and  puffed  in  an  elaborate  fashion,  and 
there  was  at  the  wrist-bands  of  her  sleeves  a  fall 
of  lace  which  half  covered  her  long,  shapely 
white  hands.  She  was  pinching  its  plaits  me 
chanically,  and  watching  the  effect  as  she  idly 
turned  them  in  the  firelight  to  catch  the  gleam 
of  opal  and  amethyst  rings.  But  this  accom 
paniment  to  her  thoughts  was  hardly  a  conscious 
one;  she  had  admired  her  hands  for  so  many 
years  that  she  was  very  apt  to  give  to  their 
beauty  this  homage  of  involuntary  observation, 
even  when  her  thoughts  were  fixed  on  subjects 
far-off  and  alien  to  them. 
141 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  Allister,"  she  said,  suddenly,  "  I  wonder 
where  Mr.  Archibald  will  be  this  night." 

"  The  Lord  knows,  Madame,  and  it  is  well 
he  does;  for  it  is  little  we  know  of  ourselves 
and  the  ways  we  walk  in." 

"  The  Lord  looks  after  his  own,  Allister,  and 
Mr.  Archibald  was  given  to  him  by  kirk  and 
parents  before  he  was  a  month  old.  But  if  a 
man  marries  such  a  woman  as  you  know  nothing 
about,  and  then  goes  her  ways,  what  will  you 
say  then?  " 

"  It  is  not  as  bad  as  that,  Madame.  Mrs. 
Archibald  is  of  well-known  people,  though  poor." 

"  Though  low-born,  Allister.  Poverty  can  be 
tholed,  and  even  respected ;  but  for  low  birth 
there  is  no  remedy  but  being  born  over  again." 

"  Well,  Madame,  she  is  Braelands  now,  and 
that  is  a  cloak  to  cover  all  defects ;  and  if  I  was 
you  I  would  just  see  that  it  did  so." 

"  She  is  my  son's  wife,  and  must  be  held  as 
such,  both  by  gentle  and  simple." 

"  And  there  is  few  ills  that  have  not  a  good 
side  to  them,  Madame.  If  Mr.  Archibald  had 
married  Miss  Roberta  Elgin,  as  you  once  feared 
he  would  do,  there  would  have  been  a  flitting 
for  you  and  for  me,  Madame.  Miss  Roberta 
would  have  had  the  whole  of  Braelands  House 
to  herself,  and  the  twenty-two  rooms  of  it 
would  n't  have  been  enough  for  her.  And  she 
142 


THE   BEGINNING   OF   THE   END 

would  have  taken  the  Braelands's  honour  and 
glory  on  her  own  shoulders.  It  would  have  been 
'  Mrs.  Archibald  Braelands '  here  and  there  and 
everywhere,  and  you  would  have  been  pushed 
out  of  sight  and  hearing,  and  passed  by  alto 
gether,  like  as  not ;  for  if  youth  and  beauty  and 
wealth  and  good  blood  set  themselves  to  have 
things  their  own  way,  which  way  at  all  will  age 
that  is  not  rich  keep  for  itself  ?  Sure  as  death, 
Madame,  you  would  have  had  to  go  to  the 
Dower  House,  which  is  but  a  mean  little  place, 
though  big  enough,  no  doubt,  for  all  the  friends 
and  acquaintances  that  would  have  troubled 
themselves  to  know  you  there." 

"  You  are  not  complimentary,  Allister.  I 
think  I  have  few  friends  who  would  not  have 
followed  me  to  the  Dower  House." 

"  Surely,  Madame,  you  may  as  well  think  so. 
But  carriages  aye  stop  at  big  houses ;  indeed, 
the  very  coachmen  and  footmen  and  horses 
are  dead  set  against  calling  at  cottages.  There 
is  many  a  lady  who  would  be  feared  to  ask  her 
coachman  to  call  at  the  Dower  House.  But 
what  for  am  I  talking  ?  There  is  no  occasion  to 
think  that  Mrs.  Archibald  will  ever  dream  of 
sending  you  out  of  this  house." 

"  I  came  here  a  bride,  nearly  forty  years  ago, 
Allister,"  she  said,  with  a  touch  of  sentimental 
pity  for  herself  in  the  remembrance. 
143 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  So  you  have  had  a  long  lease,  Madame,  and 
one  like  to  be  longer;  for  never  a  better  son 
than  your  son ;  and  I  do  think  for  sure  that  the 
lady  he  has  married  will  be  as  biddable  as  a  very 
child  with  you." 

"  I  hope  so.  For  she  will  have  everything 
to  learn  about  society,  and  who  can  teach  her 
better  than  I  can,  Allister?" 

"  No  one,  Madame  ;  and  Mrs.  Archibald  was 
ever  good  at  the  uptake.  I  am  very  sure  if 
you  will  show  her  this  and  that,  and  give  her 
the  word  here  and  there  yourself,  Madame,  there 
will  be  no  finer  lady  in  Fife  before  the  year  has 
come  and  gone.  And  she  cannot  be  travelling 
with  Mr.  Archibald  without  learning  many  a 
thing  all  the  winter  long." 

"  Yes,  they  will  not  be  home  before  the  spring, 
I  hear." 

"  And  oh,  Madame,  by  that  date  you  will 
have  forgot  that  all  was  not  as  you  wanted  it ! 
And  no  doubt  you  will  give  the  young  things 
the  loving  welcome  they  are  certain  to  be  long 
ing  for." 

"  T  do  not  know,  Allister.  The  marriage  was 
a  great  sorrow,  and  shame,  and  disappointment 
to  me.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  have  forgiven  it." 

"  Lady   Beith    was    saying  you   never   would 
forgive  it.     She  was  saying  that  you  could  never 
forgive  any  one's  faults  but  your  own." 
144 


THE   BEGINNING   OF  THE   END 

"  Lady  Beith  is  very  impertinent.  And  pray 
what  faults  has  Lady  Beith  ever  seen  in  me?" 

"  It  was  her  general  way  of  speaking,  Madame. 
She  has  that  way." 

"  Then  you  might  tell  Lady  Beith's  woman, 
that  such  general  ways  of  speaking  are  ex 
tremely  vulgar.  When  her  ladyship  speaks  of 
the  Mistress  of  Braelands  again,  I  will  ask  her 
to  refer  to  me,  particularly.  I  have  my  own 
virtues  as  well  as  my  own  faults,  and  my  own 
position,  and  my  own  influence,  and  I  do  not 
go  into  the  generalities  of  life.  I  am  the  Mis 
tress  of  Braelands  yet,  I  hope." 

"  I  hope  so,  Madame.  As  I  was  saying,  Mrs. 
Archibald  is  biddable  as  a  child  ;  but  then  again, 
she  is  quite  capable  of  taking  the  rudder  into 
her  own  hands,  and  driving  in  the  teeth  of  the 
wind.  You  can't  ever  be  sure  of  fisher  blood. 
It  is  like  the  ocean,  whiles  calm  as  a  sleeping 
baby,  whiles  lashing  itself  into  a  very  fury. 
There  is  both  this  and  that  in  the  Traills,  and 
Mrs.  Archibald  is  one  of  them." 

"  Any  way  and  every  way,  this  marriage  is  a 
great  sorrow  to  me." 

"  I  am  not  disputing  that,  Madame;  but  I  am 
sure  you  remember  what  the  minister  was  say 
ing  to  you  at  his  last  visitation  —  that  every 
sorrow  you  got  the  mastery  over  was  a 
benefactor." 

10  145 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"  The  minister  is  not  always  orthodox,. 
Allister." 

"  He  is  a  very  good  man ;  every  one  is  saying 
that." 

"  No  doubt,  no  doubt,  but  he  deviates." 

"  Well  then,  Madame,  even  if  the  marriage  be 
as  bad  as  you  fancy  it,  bad  things  as  well  as 
good  ones  come  to  an  end,  and  life,  after  all,  is 
like  a  bit  of  poetry  I  picked  up  somewhere, 
which  says : 

'  There  's  nane  exempt  frae  worldly  cares ; 

And  few  frae  some  domestic  jars  ; 
Whyles  all  are  in,  whyles  all  are  out, 
And  grief  and  joy  come  turn  about.' 

And  it's  the  turn  now  for  the  young  people  to 
be  happy.  Cold  and  bleak  it  is  here  on  the 
Fife  coast,  but  they  are  among  roses  and  sun 
shine  ;  and  so  God  bless  them,  I  say,  and  keep  us 
and  every  one  from  cutting  short  their  '  turn '  of 
happiness.  You  had  your  bride-time,  Madame, 
and  when  Angus  McAllister  first  took  me  to 
his  cottage  in  Strathmoyer,  I  thought  I  was  on 
a  visit  to  Paradise." 

"  Give  me  my  glass  of  negus,  and  then  I  will  go 
to  bed.  Everybody  has  taken  to  preaching  and 
advising  lately,  and  that  is  not  the  kind  of  fore- 
talk  that  spares  after-talk  —  not  it,  Allister." 

She  sunk  then  into  unapproachable  silence, 
146 


THE   BEGINNING   OF   THE   END 

and  Allister  knew  that  she  needed  not  try  to  move 
her  further  that  night  in  any  direction.  Her 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  red  coals,  but  she 
was  really  thinking  of  the  roses  and  sunshine  of 
the  South,  and  picturing  to  herself  her  son  and 
his  bride,  wandering  happily  amid  the  warmth 
and  beauty. 

In  reality,  they  were  crossing  the  Braelands's 
moor  at  that  very  moment.  The  rain  was  beat 
ing  against  the  closed  windows  of  their  coach, 
and  the  horses  floundering  heavily  along  the 
boggy  road.  Sophy's  head  rested  on  her  hus 
band's  shoulder,  but  they  were  not  talking,  nor 
had  they  spoken  for  some  time.  Both  indeed 
were  tired  and  depressed,  and  Archie  at  least 
was  unpleasantly  conscious  of  the  wonderment 
their  unexpected  return  would  cause. 

The  end  of  April  or  the  beginning  of  May 
had  been  the  time  appointed,  and  yet  here  they 
were,  at  the  threshold  of  their  home,  in  the 
middle  of  the  winter.  Sophy's  frail  health  had 
been  Archie's  excuse  for  a  season  in  the  South 
with  her;  and  she  was  coming  back  to  Scotland 
when  the  weather  was  at  its  very  bleakest  and 
coldest.  One  excuse  after  another  formed  itself 
in  Archie's  mind,  only  to  be  peremptorily  dis 
missed.  "  It  is  no  one's  business  but  our  own," 
he  kept  assuring  himself,  "  and  I  will  give 
neither  reason  nor  apology  but  my  wife's  de- 
147 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

sire ;  "  and  yet  he  knew  that  reasons  and  apol 
ogies  would  be  asked,  and  he  was  fretting 
inwardly  at  their  necessity,  and  wondering 
vaguely  if  women  ever  did  know  what  they 
really  wanted. 

For  to  go  to  France  and  Germany  and  Italy, 
had  seemed  to  Sophy  the  very  essence  of  every 
joy  in  life.  Before  her  marriage,  she  had  sat  by 
Archie's  side  hour  after  hour,  listening  to  his 
descriptions  of  foreign  lands,  and  dreaming  of 
all  the  delights  that  were  to  meet  her  in  them. 
She  had  started  on  this  bridal  trip  with  all  her 
senses  set  to  an  unnatural  key  of  expectation, 
and  she  had,  of  course,  suffered  continual  dis 
appointments  and  disillusions.  The  small  frets 
and  sicknesses  of  travel ;  the  loneliness  of  being 
in  places  where  she  could  not  speak  even  to 
her  servants,  or  go  shopping  without  an  attend 
ant;  the  continual  presence  of  what  was  strange 

—  of  what  wounded    her    prejudices   and   very 
often  her  conscience  ;  —  and  the  constant  absence 
of  all  that  was  familiar  and   approved,  were  in 
themselves  no  slight  cause  of  unhappiness. 

Yet  it  had  been  a  very  gradual  disillusion,  and 
one  mitigated  by  many  experiences  that  had 
fully  justified  even  Sophy's  extravagant  anticipa 
tions..  The  trouble,  in  the  main,  was  one  com 
mon  to  a  great  majority  of  travellers  for  pleasure 

—  a  mind  totally  unprepared  for  the  experience. 

148 


THE   BEGINNING   OF   THE   END 

She  grew  weary  of  great  cities  which  had  no 
individual  character  or  history  in  her  mind ; 
weary  of  fine  hotels  in  which  she  was  of  no  spe 
cial  importance ;  weary  of  art  which  had  no 
meaning  for  her.  Her  child-like  enthusiasms, 
which  at  first  both  delighted  and  embarrassed 
her  husband,  faded  gradually  away ;  the  present 
not  only  lost  its  charm,  but  she  began  to  look 
backward  to  the  homely  airs  and  scenes  of  Fife, 
and  to  suffer  from  a  nostalgia  that  grew  worse 
continually. 

However,  Archie  bore  her  unreasonable  de 
pression  with  great  consideration.  She  was 
but  a  frail  child  after  all,  and  she  was  in  a 
condition  of  health  demanding  the  most  affec 
tionate  patience  and  tenderness  he  could  give 
her.  Besides,  it  was  no  great  sin  in  his  eyes 
to  be  sick  with  longing  for  dear  old  Scotland. 
He  loved  his  native  land ;  and  his  little  mountain 
blue-bell,  trembling  in  every  breeze,  and  droop 
ing  in  every  hour  of  heat  and  sunshine,  appealed 
to  the  very  best  instincts  of  his  nature.  And 
when  Sophy  began  to  voice  her  longing,  to  cry 
a  little  in  his  arms,  and  to  say  she  was  weary 
ing  for  a  sight  of  the  great  grey  sea  round 
her  Fife  home,  Archie  vowed  he  was  home 
sick  as  a  man  could  be,  and  asked,  "  why  they 
should  stop  away  from  their  own  dear  land  any 
longer?" 

149 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  People  will  wonder  and  talk  so,  Archie 
They  will  say  unkind  things  —  they  will  maybe 
say  we  are  not  happy  together." 

"Let  them  talk.  What  care  we?  And  we 
are  happy  together.  Do  you  want  to  go  back 
to  Scotland  to-morrow?  to-day  —  this  very 
hour?" 

"  Aye,  I  do,  Archie.  And  I  am  that  weak 
and  poorly,  if  I  don't  go  soon,  maybe  I  will 
have  to  wait  a  long  time,  and  then  you  know— 

"  Yes,  I  know.  And  that  would  never,  never 
do.  Braelands  of  Fife  cannot  run  the  risk  of 
having  his  heir  born  in  a  foreign  country.  Why, 
it  would  be  thrown  up  to  the  child,  lad  and 
man,  as  long  as  he  lived  !  So  call  your  maid, 
my  bonnie  Sophy,  and  set  her  to  packing  all 
your  braws  and  pretty  things,  and  we  will  turn 
our  faces  to  Scotland's  hills  and  braes  to-morrow 
morning." 

Thus  it  happened  that  on  that  bleak  night  in 
February,  Archie  Braelands  and  his  wife  came 
suddenly  to  their  home,  amid  the  stormy  winds 
and  rains  of  a  stormy  night.  Madame  heard 
the  wheels  of  their  carriage  as  she  sat  sipping 
her  negus,  and  thinking  over  her  conversation 
with  Allister ;  and  her  alert  soul  instantly  divined 
who  the  late  comers  were. 

"  Give  me    my  silk   morning  gown  and   my 
brocade  petticoat,  Allister,"  she    cried,   as   she 
150 


THE   BEGINNING   OF  THE   END 

rose  up  hastily  and  set  down  her  glass.  "  Mr. 
Archibald  has  come  home;  his  carriage  is  at 
the  door — haste  ye,  woman  !  " 

"  Will  you  be  heeding  your  silks  to-night, 
Madame?  " 

"  Get  them  at  once.  Quick  !  Do  you  think 
I  will  meet  the  bride  in  a  flannel  dressing-gown? 
No,  no !  I  am  not  going  to  lose  ground  the  first 
hour." 

With  nervous  haste  the  richer  garments  were 
donned,  and  just  as  the  final  gold  brooch  was 
clasped,  Archie  knocked  at  his  mother's  door. 
She  opened  to  him  with  her  own  hands,  and 
took  him  to  her  heart  with  an  effusive  affection 
she  rarely  permitted  herself  to  exhibit. 

"  I  am  so  glad  that  you  are  dressed,  Mother," 
he  said.  "  Sophy  must  not  miss  your  welcome, 
and  the  poor  little  woman  is  just  weary  to 
death."  Then  he  whispered  some  words  to  her, 
which  brought  a  flush  of  pride  and  joy  to  his 
own  face,  but  no  such  answering  response  to 
Madame's. 

"  Indeed,"  she  replied,  "  I  am  sorry  she  is  so 
tired.  It  seems  to  me,  that  the  women  of  this 
generation  are  but  weak  creatures." 

Then  she  took  her  son's  arm,  and  went  down 
to  the  parlour,  where  servants  were  re-kindling 
the  fire,  and  setting  a  table  with  refreshments 
for  the  unexpected  guests.  Sophy  was  resting 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

on  a  sofa  drawn  towards  the  hearth.  Archie 
had  thrown  his  travelling-cloak  of  black  fox  over 
her,  and  her  white,  flower-like  face,  surrounded 
by  the  black  fur,  had  a  singularly  pathetic 
beauty.  She  opened  her  large  blue  eyes  as 
Madame  approached,  and  looked  at  her  with 
wistful  entreaty;  and  Madame,  in  spite  of  all  her 
pre-arrangements  of  conduct,  was  unable  at  that 
hour  not  to  answer  the  appeal  for  affection  she 
saw  in  them.  She  stooped  and  kissed  the  child 
like  little  woman,  and  Archie  watched  this  token 
of  reconciliation  and  promise  with  eyes  wet 
with  happiness. 

When  supper  was  served,  Madame  took  her 
usual  place  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and  Archie 
noticed  the  circumstance,  though  it  did  not 
seem  a  proper  time  to  make  any  remark  about 
it.  For  Sophy  was  not  able  to  eat,  and  did  not 
rise  from  her  couch ;  and  Madame  seemed  to 
fall  so  properly  into  her  character  of  hostess, 
that  it  would  have  been  churlish  to  have  made 
the  slightest  dissent.  Yet  it  was  a  false  kind 
ness  to  both ;  for  in  the  morning  Madame  took 
the  same  position,  and  Archie  felt  less  able  than 
on  the  previous  night  to  make  any  opposition, 
though  he  had  told  himself  continually  on  his 
homeward  journey  that  he  would  not  suffer 
Sophy  to  be  imposed  upon,  and  would  demand 
for  her  the  utmost  title  of  her  rights  as  his  wife. 


THE   BEGINNING   OF   THE   END 

In  this  resolve,  however,  he  had  forgot  to  take 
into  account  his  mother's  long  and  absolute 
influence  over  him.  When  she  was  absent,  it 
was  comparatively  easy  to  relegate  her  to  the 
position  she  ought  to  occupy;  when  she  was 
present,  he  found  it  impossible  to  say  or  do 
anything  which  made  her  less  than  Mistress  of 
Braelands.  And  during  the  first  few  weeks  after 
her  return,  Sophy  helped  her  mother-in-law 
considerably  against  herself.  She  was  so 
anxious  to  please,  so  anxious  to  be  loved,  so 
afraid  of  making  trouble  for  Archie,  that  she 
submitted  without  protest  to  one  infringement 
after  another  on  her  rights  as  the  wife  of  the 
Master  of  Braelands.  All  the  same  she  was 
dumbly  conscious  of  the  wrong  being  done  to 
her;  and  like  a  child,  she  nursed  her  sense  of 
the  injustice  until  it  showed  itself  in  a  continual 
mood  of  sullen,  silent  protest. 

After  the  lapse  of  a  month  or  more,  she  be 
came  aware  that  even  her  ill  health  was  used  as 
a  weapon  against  her,  and  she  suddenly  resolved 
to  throw  off  her  lassitude,  and  assert  her  right 
to  go  out  and  call  upon  her  friends.  But  she 
was  petulant  and  foolish  in  the  carrying  out  of 
the  measure.  She  had  made  up  her  mind  to 
visit  her  aunt  on  the  following  day,  and  though 
the  weather  was  bitterly  cold  and  damp,  she 
adhered  to  her  resolution.  Madame,  at  first 
153 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

politely,  finally  with  provoking  positiveness, 
told  her  "  she  would  not  permit  her  to  risk  her 
life,  and  a  life  still  more  precious,  for  any  such 
folly." 

Then  Sophy  rose,  with  a  sudden  excitement 
of  manner,  and  rang  the  bell.  When  the  servant 
appeared,  she  ordered  the  carriage  to  be  ready 
for  her  in  half  an  hour.  Madame  waited  until 
they  were  alone,  and  then  said  :  — 

"  Sophy,  go  to  your  room  and  lie  down.  You 
are  not  fit  to  go  out.  I  shall  counter-order  the 
carriage  in  your  name." 

"  You  will  not,"  cried  the  trembling,  passionate 
girl.  "You  have  ordered  and  counter-ordered 
in  my  name  too  much.  You  will,  in  the  future, 
mind  your  own  affairs,  and  leave  me  to  attend 
to  mine." 

"  When  Archie  comes  back  — 

"  You  will  tell  him  all  kinds  of  lies.  I  know 
that." 

"  I  do  not  lie." 

"  Perhaps  not ;  but  you  misrepresent  things 
so,  that  you  make  it  impossible  for  Archie  to 
get  at  the  truth.  I  want  to  see  my  aunt.  You 
have  kept  me  from  her,  and  kept  her  from  me, 
until  I  am  sick  for  a  sight  of  those  who  really 
love  me.  I  am  going  to  Aunt  Kilgour's  this 
very  morning,  whether  you  like  it  or  not." 

"  You  shall  not  leave  this  house  until  Archie 
154 


THE   BEGINNING   OF  THE   END 

comes  back  from   Largo.     I  will  not  take  the 
responsibility." 

"  We  shall  see.  /  will  take  the  responsibility 
myself.  /  am  mistress  of  Braelands.  You  will 
please  remember  that  fact  And  I  know  my 
rights,  though  I  have  allowed  you  to  take  them 
from  me." 

"  Sophy,  listen  to  me." 

"  I  am  going  to  Aunt  Kilgour's." 

"  Archie  will  be  very  angry." 

"  Not  if  you  will  let  him  judge  for  himself. 
Anyway,  I  don't  care.  I  am  going  to  see  my 
aunt !  You  expect  Archie  to  be  always  thinking 
of  feelings,  and  your  likes  and  dislikes.  I  have 
just  as  good  a  right  to  care  about  my  aunt's  feel 
ings.  She  was  all  the  same  as  mother  to  me. 
I  have  been  a  wicked  lassie  not  to  have  gone 
to  her  lang  syne." 

"  Wicked  lassie  !  Lang  syne  !  I  wish  you 
would  at  least  try  to  speak  like  a  lady." 

"I  am  not  a  lady.  I  am  just  one  of  God's 
fisher  folk.  I  want  to  see  my  own  kith  and  kin. 
I  am  going  to  do  so." 

"  You  are  not  —  until  your  husband  gives  you 
permission." 

"  Permission  !  do  you  say  ?  I  will  go  on  my 
own  permission,  Sophy  Braelands's  permission." 

"  It  is  a  shame  to  take  the  horses  out  in  such 
weather —  and  poor  old  Thomas." 
155 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"  Shame  or  not,  I  shall  take  them  out." 

"  Indeed,  no  !  I  cannot  permit  you  to  make 
a  fool  and  a  laughing-stock  of  yourself."  She 
rang  the  bell  sharply  and  sent  for  the  coachman. 
When  he  appeared,  she  said :  — 

"  Thomas,  I  think  the  horses  had  better  not 
go  out  this  morning.  It  is  bitterly  cold,  and 
there  is  a  storm  coming  from  the  northeast.  Do 
you  not  think  so?  " 

"  It  is  a  bad  day,  Madame,  and  like  to  be 
worse." 

"Then  we  will  not  go  out." 

As  Madame  uttered  the  words,  Sophy  walked 
rapidly  forward.  All  the  passion  of  her  Viking 
ancestors  was  in  her  face,  which  had  undergone 
a  sort  of  transfiguration.  Her  eyes  flashed,  her 
soft  curly  yellow  hair  seemed  instinct  with  a 
strange  life  and  brilliancy,  and  she  said  with 
an  authority  that  struck  Madame  with  amaze 
ment  and  fear :  — 

"  Thomas,  you  will  have  the  carriage  at  the 
door  in  fifteen  minutes,  exactly,"  and  she  drew 
out  her  little  jewelled  watch,  and  gave  him  the 
time  with  a  smiling,  invincible  calmness. 

Thomas  looked  from  one  woman  to  the  other, 
and  said,  fretfully,  "  A  man  canna  tak*  twa  con 
trary  orders  at  the  same  minute  o'  time.  What 
will  I  do  in  the  case?  " 

"  You  will  do  as  I  tell  you,  Thomas,"  said 


THE   BEGINNING   OF  THE   END 

Madame.  "  You  have  done  so  for  twenty  years. 
Have  you  come  to  any  scath  or  wrong  by  it?  " 

"  If  the  carriage  is  not  at  the  door  in  fifteen 
minutes,  you  will  leave  Braelands  this  night, 
Thomas,"  said  Sophy.  "  Listen  !  I  give  you 
fifteen  minutes;  after  that  I  shall  walk  into 
Largo,  and  you  can  answer  to  your  master  for  it. 
I  am  Mistress  of  Braelands.  Don't  forget  that 
fact  if  you  want  to  keep  your  place,  Thomas." 

She  turned  passionately  away  with  the  words, 
and  left  the  room.  In  fifteen  minutes  she  went 
to  the  front  door  in  her  cloak  and  hood,  and  the 
carriage  was  waiting  there.  "  You  will  drive  me 
to  my  aunt  Kilgour's  shop,"  she  said  with  an  air 
of  reckless  pride  and  defiance.  It  pleased  her 
at  that  hour  to  humble  herself  to  her  low  estate. 
And  it  pleased  Thomas  also  that  she  had  done 
so.  His  sympathy  was  with  the  fisher  girl.  He 
was  delighted  that  she  had  at  last  found  courage 
to  assert  herself,  for  Sophy's  wrongs  had  been 
the  staple  talk  of  the  kitchen-table  and  fireside. 

"  No  born  lady  I  ever  saw,"  he  said  afterwards 
to  the  cook,  "  could  have  held  her  own  better. 
It  will  be  an  even  fight  between  them  two  now, 
and  I  will  bet  my  shilling  on  fisherman  Traill's 
girl." 

"  Madame  has  more  wit,  and  more  hold-out" 
answered  the  cook.  "  Mrs.  Archibald  is  good 
for  a  spurt,  but  I  '11  be  bound  she  cried  her  eyes 
157 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

red  at  Griselda  Kilgour's,  and  was  as  weak  as  a 
baby." 

This  opinion  was  a  perfectly  correct  one. 
Once  in  her  aunt's  little  back  parlour,  Sophy 
gave  full  sway  to  her  childlike  temper.  She 
told  all  her  wrongs,  and  was  comforted  by  her 
kinswoman's  interest  and  pity,  and  strengthened 
in  her  resolution  to  resist  Madame's  interference 
with  her  life.  And  then  the  small  black  teapot 
was  warmed  and  filled,  and  Sophy  begged  for  a 
herring  and  a  bit  of  oatcake ;  and  the  two  women 
sat  close  to  one  another,  and  Miss  Kilgour  told 
Sophy  all  the  gossip  and  clash  of  gossip  there 
had  been  about  Christina  Binnie  and  her  lover, 
and  how  the  marriage  had  been  broken  off, 
no  one  knowing  just  why,  but  many  thinking 
that  since  Jamie  Logan  had  got  a  place  on  "  The 
Line,"  he  was  set  on  bettering  himself  with  a  girl 
something  above  the  like  of  Christina  Binnie. 

And  as  they  talked  Helen  Marr  came  into  the 
shop  for  a  yard  of  ribbon,  and  said  it  was  the 
rumour  all  through  Pittendurie,  that  Andrew 
Binnie  was  all  but  dead,  and  folks  were  laying 
all  the  blame  upon  the  Mistress  of  Braelands, 
for  that  every  one  knew  that  Andrew  had  never 
held  up  his  head  an  hour  since  her  marriage. 
And  though  Miss  Kilgour  did  not  encourage 
this  phase  of  gossip,  yet  the  woman  would  per 
sist  in  describing  his  sufferings,  and  the  poverty 


THE   BEGINNING   OF  THE   END 

that  had  come  to  the  Binnies  with  the  loss  of 
their  only  bread-winner,  and  the  doctors  to  pay, 
and  the  medicine  folks  said  they  had  not  the 
money  to  buy,  and  much  more  of  the  same  sort, 
which  Sophy  heard  every  word  of,  knowing  also 
that  Helen  Marr  must  have  seen  her  carriage  at 
the  door,  and  so,  knowing  of  her  presence,  had 
determined  that  she  should  hear  it. 

Certainly  if  Helen  had  wished  to  wound  her 
to  the  very  heart,  she  succeeded.  When  Miss 
Kilgour  got  rid  of  her  customer,  and  came  back 
to  Sophy,  she  found  her  with  her  face  in  the 
pillow,  sobbing  passionately  about  the  trouble 
of  her  old  friends.  She  did  not  name  Andrew, 
but  the  thought  of  his  love  and  suffering  hurt 
her  sorely,  and  she  could  not  endure  to  think  of 
Janet's  and  Christina's  long  hardships  and  sor 
row.  For  she  knew  well  how  much  they  would 
blame  her,  and  the  thought  of  their  anger,  and 
of  her  own  apparent  ingratitude,  made  her  sick 
with  shame  and  grief.  And  as  they  talked  of 
this  new  trouble,  and  Sophy  sent  messages  of 
love  and  pity  to  Janet  and  Christina,  the  shop- 
bell  rung  violently,  and  Sophy  heard  her  hus 
band's  step,  and  in  another  moment  he  was  at 
her  side,  and  quite  inclined  to  be  very  angry 
with  her  for  venturing  out  in  such  miserable 
weather. 

Then  Sophy  seized  her  opportunity,  and  Miss 
159 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

Kilgour  left  them  alone  for  the  explanation  that 
was  better  to  be  made  there  than  at  Braelands. 
And  for  once  Archie  took  his  wife's  part  without 
reservation.  He  was  not  indeed  ill-pleased  that 
she  had  assumed  her  proper  position,  and  when 
he  slipped  a  crown  into  Thomas's  hand,  the  man 
also  knew  that  he  had  done  wisely.  Indeed 
there  was  something  in  the  coachman's  face  and 
air  which  affected  Madame  unpleasantly,  before 
she  noticed  that  Sophy  had  returned  in  her 
husband's  company,  and  that  they  were  evi 
dently  on  the  most  affectionate  terms. 

"  I  have  lost  this  battle,"  she  said  to  herself, 
and  she  wisely  retreated  to  her  own  room,  and 
had  a  nominal  headache,  and  a  very  genuine 
heartache  about  the  loss. 

All  day  long  Sophy  was  at  an  unnatural 
pitch,  all  day  long  she  exerted  herself,  as  she 
had  not  done  for  weeks  and  months,  to  enter 
tain  and  keep  her  husband  at  her  side,  and  all 
day  long  her  pretty  wifely  triumph  was  bright 
and  unbroken.  The  very  servants  took  a  de 
light  in  ministering  to  it,  and  Madame  was  not 
missed  in  a  single  item  of  the  household  routine. 
But  about  midnight  there  was  a  great  and  sud 
den  change.  Bells  were  frantically  rung,  lights 
flew  about  the  house,  and  there  was  saddling  of 
horses  and  riding  in  hot  haste  into  Largo  for 
any  or  all  the  doctors  that  could  be  found. 
1 60 


THE   BEGINNING   OF   THE   END 

Then  Madame  came  quietly  from  her  seclusion, 
and  resumed  her  place  as  head  of  the  household, 
for  the  little  mistress  of  one  day  lay  in  her 
chamber  quite  unconscious  of  her  lost  authority. 
Some  twelve  hours  later,  the  hoped-for  heir  of 
Braelands  was  born,  and  died,  and  Sophy,  on  the 
very  outermost  shoal  of  life,  felt  the  wash  and 
murmur  of  that  dark  river  which  flows  to  the 
Eternal  Sea. 

It  was  no  time  to  reproach  the  poor  little 
wife,  and  yet  Madame  did  not  scruple  to  do  so. 
"  She  had  warned  Sophy,  —  she  had  begged  her 
not  to  go  out  —  she  had  been  insulted  for 
endeavouring  to  prevent  what  had  come  to  pass 
just  as  she  had  predicted."  And  in  spite  of 
Archie's  love  and  pity,  her  continual  regrets  did 
finally  influence  him.  He  began  to  think  he 
had  been  badly  used,  and  to  agree  with  Madame 
in  her  assertions  that  Sophy  must  be  put  under 
some  restrictions,  and  subjected  to  some  social 
instruction. 

"  The  idea  of  the  Braelands's  carriage  standing 
two  hours  at  Griselda  Kilgour's  shop  door  !  All 
the  town  talking  about  it !  Every  one  wondering 
what  had  happened  at  Braelands,  to  drive  your 
wife  out  of  doors  in  such  weather.  All  sorts  of 
rumours  about  you  and  Sophy,  and  Griselda 
shaking  her  head  and  sighing  and  looking  un 
speakable  things,  just  to  keep  the  curiosity  alive  ; 
ii  161 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

and  the  crowds  of  gossiping  women  coming 
and  going  to  her  shop.  Many  a  cap  and  bonnet 
has  been  sold  to  your  name,  Archie,  no  doubt; 
and  I  can  tell  you  my  own  cheeks  are  kept 
burning  with  the  shame  of  the  whole  affair ! 
And  then  this  morning,  the  first  thing  she  said 
to  me  was,  that  she  wanted  to  see  her  cousins 
Isobel  and  Christina." 

"  She  asked  me  also  about  them,  Mother,  and 
really,  I  think  she  had  better  be  humoured  in  this 
matter.  Our  friends  are  not  her  friends." 

"  They  ought  to  be." 

"  Let  us  be  just.  When  has  she  had  any 
opportunity  to  make  them  so?  She  has  seen 
no  one  yet,  —  her  health  has  been  so  bad  —  and 
it  did  often  look,  Mother,  as  if  you  encouraged 
her  not  to  see  callers." 

"  Perhaps  I  did,  Archie.  You  cannot  blame 
me.  Her  manners  are  so  crude,  so  exigent,  so 
effusive.  She  is  so  much  pleased,  or  so  indiffer 
ent  about  people;  so  glad  to  see  them,  or  else 
so  careless  as  to  how  she  treats  them.  You 
have  no  idea  what  I  suffered  when  Lady  Blair 
called,  and  insisted  on  meeting  your  wife.  Of 
course  she  pretended  to  fall  in  love  with  her,  and 
kissed,  and  petted,  and  flattered  Sophy,  until 
the  girl  hardly  knew  what  she  was  doing  or  say 
ing.  And  as  for  *  saying,'  she  fell  into  broad 
Scotch,  as  she  always  does  when  she  is  pleased 
162 


THE   BEGINNING   OF  THE   END 

or  excited,  and  Lady  Blair  professed  herself 
charmed,  and  talked  broad  Scotch  back  to  her. 
And  I?  I  sat  tingling  with  shame  and  annoy 
ance,  for  I  knew  right  well  what  mockeries  and 
laughter  Sophy  was  supplying  Annette  Blair 
with  for  her  future  visitors." 

"  I  think  you  are  wrong.  Lady  Blair  is  not 
at  all  ill-natured.  She  was  herself  a  poor  min 
ister's  daughter,  and  accustomed  to  go  in  and 
out  of  the  fishers'  cottages.  I  can  imagine  that 
she  would  really  be  charmed  with  Sophy." 

"  You  can  '  imagine  '  what  you  like  ;  that  will 
not  alter  the  real  state  of  the  case  ;  and  if  Sophy 
is  ever  to  take  her  position  as  your  wife,  she 
must  be  prepared  for  it.  Besides  which,  it  will 
be  a  good  thing  to  give  her  some  new  interests 
in  life,  for  she  must  drop  the  old  ones.  About 
that  there  cannot  be  two  opinions." 

"  What  then  do  you  propose,  Mother?  " 

"  I  should  get  proper  teachers  for  her.  Her 
English  education  has  been  frightfully  neglected  ; 
and  she  ought  to  learn  music  and  French." 

"  She  speaks  French  pretty  well.  I  never  saw 
any  one  pick  up  a  language  as  cleverly  as  she 
did  the  few  weeks  we  were  in  Paris." 

"  O,  she  is  clever  enough  if  she  wants  to  be ! 
There  is  a  French  woman  teaching  at  Miss 
Linley's  Seminary.  She  will  perfect  her.  And 
I  have  heard  she  also  plays  well.  It  would  be 

163 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

a  good  thing  to  engage  her  for  Sophy,  two  or 
three  hours  a  day.  A  teacher  for  grammar, 
history,  writing,  etc.,  is  easily  found.  I  myself 
will  give  her  lessons  in  social  etiquette,  and  in 
all  things  pertaining  to  the  dignity  and  decorum 
which  your  wife  ought  to  exhibit.  Depend  upon 
it,  Archie,  this  routine  is  absolutely  necessary. 
It  will  interest  and  occupy  her  idle  hours,  of 
which  she  has  far  too  many ;  and  it  will  wean 
her  better  than  any  other  thing  from  her  low, 
uncultivated  relations." 

"  The  poor  little  woman  says  she  wants  to  be 
loved ;  that  she  is  lonely  when  I  am  away  ;  that 
no  one  but  the  servants  care  for  her ;  that  there 
fore  she  wants  to  see  her  cousins  and  kinsfolk." 

"  She  does  me  a  great  injustice.  I  would  love 
her  if  she  would  be  reasonable  —  if  she  would 
only  trust  me.  But  idle  hearts  are  lonely  hearts, 
Archie.  Tell  her  you  wish  her  to  study,  and  fit 
herself  for  the  position  you  have  raised  her  to. 
Surely  the  desire  to  please  you  ought  to  be 
enough.  Do  you  know  who  this  Christina 

o  * 

Binnie  is  that  she  talks  so  continually  about?  " 
"  Her  fourth  or  fifth  cousin,  I  believe." 
"  She  is  the  sister  of  the  man  you  won  Sophy 

from  —  the   man  whom  you   struck   across  the 

cheek  with  your  whip.     Now  do  you  wish  her 

to  see  Christina  Binnie  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  do  !     Do  you  think  I  am  jealous  or 


THE   BEGINNING   OF  THE   END 

fearful  of  my  wife?  No,  by  Heaven!  No! 
Sophy  may  be  unlearned  and  unfashionable,  but 
she  is  loyal  and  true ;  and  if  she  wants  to  see 
her  old  lover  and  his  sister,  she  has  my  full  per 
mission.  As  for  the  fisherman,  he  behaved  very 
nobly.  And  I  did  not  intend  to  strike  him.  It 
was  an  accident,  and  I  shall  apologise  for  it  the 
first  opportunity  I  have  to  do  so." 

"  You  are  a  fool,  Archie  Braelands." 

"  I  am  a  husband,  who  knows  his  wife's  heart 
and  who  trusts  in  it.  And  though  I  think  you 
are  quite  right  in  your  ideas  about  Sophy's  edu 
cation,  I  do  not  think  you  are  right  in  objecting  to 
her  seeing  her  old  friends.  Every  one  in  this 
bound  of  Fife  knows  that  I  married  a  fisher-girl. 
I  never  intend  to  be  ashamed  of  the  fact.  If 
our  social  world  will  accept  her  as  the  repre 
sentative  of  my  honour  and  my  family,  I  shall  be 
obliged  to  the  world.  If  it  will  not,  I  can  live 
without  its  approval  —  having  Sophy  to  love 
me  and  live  with  me.  I  counted  all  this  cost 
before  I  married ;  you  may  be  sure  of  that, 
Mother." 

"  You  forgot,  however,  to  take  my  honour  and 
feelings  into  your  consideration." 

"  I  knew,  Mother,  that  you  were  well  able  to 
protect  your  own  honour  and  feelings." 

This  conversation  but  indicates  the  tone  of 
many  others  which  occupied  the  hours  mother 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

and  son  passed  together  during  Sophy's  con 
valescence.  And  the  son,  being  the  weaker 
character  of  the  two,  was  insensibly  moved  and 
moulded  to  all  Madame's  opinions.  Indeed, 
before  Sophy  was  well  enough  to  begin  the 
course  of  study  marked  out  for  her,  Archie  had 
become  thoroughly  convinced  that  it  was  his  first 
duty  to  his  wife  and  himself  to  insist  upon  it 

The  weak,  loving  woman  made  no  objections. 
Indeed,  Archie's  evident  enthusiasm  sensibly 
affected  her  own  desires.  She  listened  with 
pleasure  to  the  plans  for  her  education,  and 
promised  "  as  soon  as  she  was  able,  to  do  her 
very  best." 

And  there  was  a  strange  pathos  in  the  few 
words  "  as  soon  as  I  am  able,"  which  Archie  re 
membered  years  afterwards,  when  it  was  far  too 
late.  At  the  moment,  they  touched  him  but 
lightly;  but  Oh,  afterwards!  Oh,  afterwards ! 
when  memory  brought  back  the  vision  of  the 
small  white  face  on  the  white  pillow,  and  the  faint 
golden  light  of  the  golden  curls  shadowing  the 
large  blue  eyes  that  even  then  had  in  them  that 
wide  gaze  and  wistfulness  that  marks  those  pre 
destined  for  sorrow  or  early  death.  Alas  !  alas  ! 
we  see  too  late,  we  hear  too  late,  when  it  is  the 
dead  who  open  the  eyes  and  the  ears  of  the 
living  ! 


1 66 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A   GREAT  DELIVERANCE 

WHILE  these  clouds  of  sorrow  were  slowly 
gathering  in  the  splendid  house  of  Braelands, 
there  was  a  full  tide  of  grief  and  anxiety  in  the 
humble  cottage  of  the  Binnies.  The  agony  of 
terror  which  had  changed  Janet  Binnie's  coun 
tenance,  and  sent  Christina  flying  up  the  cliff 
for  help,  was  well  warranted  by  Andrew's  con 
dition.  The  man  was  in  the  most  severe 
maniacal  delirium  of  brain  inflammation,  and 
before  the  dawning  of  the  next  day,  required 
the  united  strength  of  two  of  his  mates  to  con 
trol  him.  To  leave  her  mother  and  brother  in 
this  extremity  would  have  been  a  cruelty  beyond 
the  contemplation  of  Christina  Binnie.  Its 
possibility  never  entered  her  mind.  All  her 
anger  and  sense  of  wrong  vanished  before  the 
pitiful  sight  of  the  strong  man  in  the  throes  of 
his  mental  despair  and  physical  agony.  She 
could  not  quite  ignore  her  waiting  lover,  even 
in  such  an  hour;  but  she  was  not  a  ready  writer, 
so  her  words  were  few  and  to  the  point:  - 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

DEAR  JAMIE,  —  Andrew  is  ill,  and  like  to  die,  and 
my  place,  dear  lad,  is  here,  until  some  change  come. 
I  must  stand  by  mother  and  Andrew  now,  and  you 
yourself  would  bid  me  do  so.  Death  is  in  the  house 
and  by  the  pillow,  and  there  is  only  God's  mercy  to 
trust  to.  Andrew  is  clean  off  his  senses,  and  ill  to 
manage,  so  you  will  know  that  he  was  not  in  reason 
when  he  spoke  so  wrong  to  you,  and  you  will  be  sorry 
for  him  and  forgive  the  words  he  said,  because  he  did 
not  know  what  he  was  saying ;  and  now  he  knows 
nothing  at  all,  not  even  his  mother.  Do  not  forget  to 
pray  for  us  in  our  sorrow,  dear  Jamie,  and  I  will  keep 
ever  a  prayer  round  about  you  in  case  of  danger  on  the 
sea  or  on  land.  Your  true,  troth-plighted  wife, 

CHRISTINA  BINNIE. 

This  letter  was  her  last  selfish  act  for  many  a 
week.  After  it  had  been  written,  she  put  all  her 
own  affairs  out  of  her  mind  and  set  herself 
with  heart  and  soul,  by  day  and  by  night,  to 
the  duty  before  her.  She  suffered  no  shadow 
of  the  bygone  to  darken  her  calm,  strong  face, 
or  to  weaken  the  hands  and  heart  from  which 
so  much  was  now  expected.  And  she  contin 
ually  told  herself  not  to  doubt  in  these  dark 
days  the  mercy  of  the  Eternal,  taking  hope  and 
comfort,  as  she  went  about  her  duties,  from  a  few 
words  Janet  had  said,  even  while  she  was  weep 
ing  bitterly  over  her  son's  sufferings :  — 

"  But  I  am  putting  all  fear,  Christina,  tinder 
168 


A   GREAT   DELIVERANCE 

my  feet;  for  nothing  comes  to  pass  without 
helping  on  some  great  end." 

Now  what  great  end  Andrew's  severe  illness 
was  to  help  on,  Christina  could  not  divine ;  but 
like  her  brave  mother,  she  put  fear  under  her 
feet,  and  looked  confidently  for  "  the  end  "  which 
she  trusted  would  be  accomplished  in  God's 
time  and  mercy. 

So  week  after  week  the  two  women  walked 
with  love  and  courage  by  the  sick  man's  side, 
through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death. 
Often  his  life  lay  but  within  his  lips,  and  they 
watched  with  prayer  continually,  lest  he  should 
slip  away  to  them  that  had  gone  before,wanting 
its  mighty  shield  in  the  great  perilous  journey 
of  the  soul.  And  though  there  is  no  open  vis 
ion  in  these  days,  yet  His  Presence  is  ever  near 
to  those  who  seek  him  with  all  the  heart.  So 
that  wonderful  things  were  seen  and  experienced 
in  that  humble  room,  where  the  man  lay  at  the 
point  of  death. 

Andrew  had  his  share  of  these  experiences. 
Whatever  God  said  to  the  waiting,  watching 
women,  He  kept  for  His  suffering  servant  some 
of  His  richest  consolations,  and  so  made  all  his 
bed  in  his  sickness.  Andrew  was  keenly  sensi 
ble  of  these  ministrations,  and  he  grew  strong 
in  their  heavenly  strength;  for  though  the  vaults 
of  God  are  full  of  wine,  the  soul  that  has  drunk 

169 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

of  His  strong  wine  of  Pain  knows  that  it  has 
tasted  the  costliest  vintage  of  all,  and  asks  on 
this  earth  no  better. 

And  as  our  thoughts  affect  our  surroundings, 
quite  as  much  as  rain  or  sunshine  affect  the 
atmosphere,  these  two  women,  with  the  sick  man 
on  their  hearts  and  hands,  were  not  unhappy 
women.  They  did  their  very  best,  and  trusted 
God  for  the  outcome.  Thus  Heaven  helped 
them,  and  their  neighbours  helped  them,  and 
taking  turns  in  their  visitation,  they  found  the 
Kirk  also  to  be  a  big,  calm  friend  in  the  time 
of  their  trouble.  And  then  one  morning,  before 
the  dawn  broke,  when  life  seemed  to  be  at  its 
lowest  point,  when  hope  was  nearly  gone,  and 
the  shadow  of  Death  fell  across  the  sick  man's 
face,  there  was  suddenly  a  faint,  strange  flutter. 
Some  mighty  one  went  out  of  the  door,  as  the 
sunshine  touched  the  lintel,  and  the  life  began 
to  turn  back,  just  as  the  tide  began  to  flow. 

Then  Janet  rose  up  softly  and  opened  the 
house  door,  and  looking  at  her  son  and  at  the 
turning  waters,  she  said  solemnly :  — 

"  Thank  God,  Christina  !  He  has  turned  with 
the  tide?  He  is  all  right  now." 

It  was  April,  however,  in  its  last  days,  before 

Andrew  had  strength  sufficient  to  go  down  the 

cliff,  and  the  first  news  he  heard  in  the  village, 

was  that  Mistress  Braelands  had  lain  at  death's 

170 


A   GREAT   DELIVERANCE 

door  also.  Doubtless  it  explained  some  testi 
mony  private  to  his  own  experience,  for  he  let 
the  intelligence  pass  through  his  ear-chambers 
into  his  heart,  without  remark,  but  it  made  there 
a  great  peace  —  a  peace  pure  and  loving  as  that 
which  passeth  understanding. 

There  was,  however,  no  hope  or  expectation 
of  his  resuming  work  until  the  herring  fishing 
in  June,  and  Janet  and  Christina  were  now 
suffering  sorely  from  a  strange  dilemma.  Never 
before  in  all  their  lives  had  they  known  what  it 
was  to  be  pinched  for  ready  money.  It  was 
hard  for  Janet  to  realise  that  there  was  no 
longer  "  a  little  bit  in  the  Largo  bank  to  fall 
back  on."  Naturally  economical,  and  always 
regarding  it  as  a  sacred  duty  to  live  within  the 
rim  of  their  shilling,  they  had  never  known 
either  the  slow  terror  of  gathering  debt,  or  the 
acute  pinch  of  actual  necessity.  But  Andrew's 
long  sickness,  with  all  its  attendant  expenses, 
had  used  up  all  Janet's  savings,  and  the  day  at 
last  dawned  when  they  must  either  borrow 
money  or  run  into  debt. 

It  was  a  strange  and  humiliating  position, 
especially  after  Janet's  little  motherly  bragging 
about  her  Christina's  silken  wedding  gown,  and 
brawly  furnished  floor  in  Glasgow.  Both 
mother  and  daughter  felt  it  sorely ;  and  Chris 
tina  looked  at  her  brother  with  some  little  angry 
171 


A    KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

amazement,  for  he  appeared  to  be  quite  oblivious 
of  their  cruel  strait  He  said  little  about  his 
work,  and  never  spoke  at  all  about  Sophy  or 
his  lost  money.  In  the  tremendous  furnace  of 
his  affliction,  these  elements  of  it  appeared  to 
have  been  utterly  consumed. 

Neither  mother  nor  sister  liked  to  remind 
him  of  them,  nor  yet  to  point  out  the  poverty 
to  which  his  long  sickness  had  reduced  them. 
It  might  be  six  weeks  before  the  herring  fishing 
roused  him  to  labour,  and  they  had  spent  their 
last  sixpence.  Janet  began  seriously  to  think 
of  lifting  the  creel  to  her  shoulders  again,  and 
crying  "fresh  fish"  in  Largo  streets.  It  was  so 
many  years  since  she  had  done  this,  that  the 
idea  was  painful  both  to  Christina  and  herself 
The  girl  would  gladly  have  taken  her  mother's 
place,  but  this  Janet  would  not  hearken  to. 
As  yet,  her  daughter  had  never  had  to  haggle 
and  barter  among  fish-wives,  and  house-wives ; 
and  she  would  not  have  her  do  it  for  a  passing 
necessity.  Besides  Jamie  might  not  like  it;  and 
for  many  other  reasons,  the  little  downcome 
would  press  hardest  upon  Christina. 

There  was  one  other  plan  by  which  a  little 
ready  money  could  be  raised —  that  was,  to  get 
a  small  mortgage  on  the  cottage,  and  when  all 
had  been  said  for  and  against  this  project,  it 
seemed,  after  all,  to  be  the  best  thing  to  do. 
172 


A   GREAT   DELIVERANCE 

Griselda  Kilgour  had  money  put  away,  and 
Christina  was  very  certain  she  would  be  glad 
to  help  them  on  such  good  security  as  a  house 
and  an  acre  or  two  of  land.  Certainly  Janet 
and  Griselda  had  parted  in  bad  bread  at  their 
last  interview;  but  in  such  a  time  of  trouble, 
Christina  did  not  believe  that  her  kinswoman 
would  remember  ill  words  that  had  passed, 
especially  as  they  were  about  Sophy's  mar 
riage —  a  subject  on  which  they  had  every  right 
to  feel  hurt  and  offended. 

Still  a  mortgage  on  their  home  was  a  dread 
ful  alternative  to  these  simple-minded  women ; 
they  looked  upon  it  as  something  very  like  a 
disgrace.  "  A  lawyer's  foot  on  the  threshold," 
said  Janet,  "  and  who  or  what  is  to  keep  him 
from  putting  the  key  of  the  cottage  in  his  own 
pocket,  and  sending  us  into  a  cold  and  roofless 
world?  No!  No!  Christina.  I  had  better  by 
far  lift  the  creel  to  my  shoulders  again.  Thank 
God,  I  have  the  health  and  strength  to  do  it !  " 

"  And  what  will  folks  be  saying  of  me,  to  let 
you  ware  yourself  on  the  life  of  that  work,  in 
your  old  age?  If  you  turn  fish-wife  again,  then 
I  be  to  seek  service  with  some  one  who  can  pay 
me  for  my  hands'  work." 

"  Well,  well,  my  dear  lass,  to-night  we  can 
not  work,  but  we  may  sleep ;  and  many  a  bless 
ing  comes,  and  us  not  thinking  of  it.  Lie  down 
173 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE  NETS 

a  wee,  and  God  will  comfort  you ;  forbye,  the 
pillow  often  gives  us  good  counsel.  Keep  a 
still  heart  to-night,  and  to-morrow  is  another 
day." 

Janet  followed  her  own  advice,  and  was  soon 
sleeping  as  soundly  and  as  sweetly  as  a  play- 
tired  child ;  but  Christina  sat  in  the  open  door 
way,  thinking  of  the  strait  they  were  in,  and 
wondering  if  it  would  not  be  the  kindest  and 
wisest  thing  to  tell  Andrew  plainly  of  their 
necessity.  Sooner  or  later,  he  would  find  out 
that  his  mother  was  making  his  bread  for  him  ; 
and  she  thought  such  knowledge,  coming  from 
strangers,  or  through  some  accident,  would 
wound  him  more  severely  than  if  she  herself 
explained  their  hard  position  to  him.  As  for 
the  mortgage,  the  very  thought  of  it  made  her 
sick.  "  It  is  just  giving  our  home  away,  bit  by 
bit  —  that  is  what  a  mortgage  is  —  and  whatever 
we  are  to  do,  and  whatever  I  ought  to  do,  God 
only  knows !  " 

Yet  in  spite  of  the  stress  of  this,  to  her,  terrible 
question,  a  singular  serenity  possessed  her.  It 
was  as  if  she  had  heard  a  voice  saying  "  Peace, 
be  still !  "  She  thought  it  was  the  calm  of 
nature,  — the  high  tide  breaking  gently -on  the 
shingle  with  a  low  murmur,  the  soft  warmth, 
the  full  moonshine,  the  sound  of  the  fisher 
men's  voices  calling  faintly  on  the  horizon, — 
174 


A   GREAT   DELIVERANCE 

and  still  more,  the  sense  of  divine  care  and 
knowledge,  and  the  sweet  conviction  that  One, 
mighty  to  help  and  to  save,  was  her  Father 
and  her  Friend.  For  a  little  space  she  walked 
abreast  of  angels.  So  many  things  take  place  in 
the  soul  that  are  not  revealed,  and  it  is  always 
when  we  are  wrestling  alone,  that  the  comfort 
ing  ones  come.  Christina  looked  downward 
to  the  village  sleeping  at  her  feet, 

"  Beneath  its  little  patch  of  sky, 
And  little  lot  of  stars," 

and  upward,  to  where  innumerable  worlds  were 
whirling  noiselessly  through  the  limitless  void, 
and  forgot  her  own  clamorous  personality  and 
"the  something  that  infects  the  world;"  and 
doing  this,  though  she  did  not  voice  her  anx 
iety,  it  passed  from  her  heart  into  the  Infinite 
Heart,  and  thus  she  was  calmed  and  comforted. 
Then,  suddenly,  the  prayer  of  her  childhood 
and  her  girlhood  came  to  her  lips,  and  she 
stood  up,  and  clasping  her  hands,  she  cast  her 
eyes  towards  heaven,  and  said  reverently :  — 

11  This  is  the  change  of  Thy  Right  Hand,  O  Thou  Most 

High  / 

Thou  art  strong  to  strengthen ! 
Thou  art  gracious  to  help  / 
Thou  art  ready  to  better  / 
Thou  art  mighty  to  save!  " 

175 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

As  the  words  passed  her  lips,  she  heard  a 
movement,  and  softly  and  silently  as  a  spirit, 
her  brother  Andrew,  fully  dressed,  passed 
through  the  door-way.  His  arm  lightly  touched 
Christina's  clothing,  but  he  was  unconscious  of 
her  presence.  He  looked  more  than  mortal, 
and  was  evidently  seeing  through  his  eyes,  and 
not  with  them.  She  was  afraid  to  speak  to 
him.  She  did  not  dream  of  touching  him,  or  of 
arresting  his  steps.  Without  a  sign  or  word,  he 
went  rapidly  down  the  cliff,  walking  with  that 
indifference  to  physical  obstacles  which  a  spirit 
that  had  cast  off  its  incarnation  might  manifest. 

"  He  is  walking  in  his  sleep,  and  he  may  get 
into  danger  or  find  death  itself,"  thought 
Christina,  and  her  fear  gave  strength  and  fleet- 
ness  to  her  footsteps  as  she  quickly  followed 
her  brother.  He  made  no  noise  of  any  kind ; 
he  did  not  even  disturb  a  pebble  in  his  path ; 
but  went  forward,  with  a  motion  light  and  rapid, 
and  the  very  reverse  of  the  slow,  heavy-footed 
gait  of  a  fisherman.  But  she  kept  him  in  sight 
as  he  glided  over  the  ribbed  and  water-lined 
sands,  and  rounded  the  rocky  points  which 
jutted  into  the  sea  water.  After  a  walk  of 
nearly  two  miles,  he  made  direct  for  a  series  of 
bold  rocks  which  were  penetrated  by  number 
less  caverns,  and  into  one  of  these  he  entered. 

Hitherto    he    had    not    shown    a    moment's 


A   GREAT   DELIVERANCE 

hesitation;  nor  did  he  now,  though  the  path  was 
dangerously  narrow  and  rocky,  overhanging 
unfathomable  abysses  of  dark  water.  But 
Christina  was  in  mortal  terror,  both  for  herself 
and  Andrew.  She  did  not  dare  to  call  his 
name,  lest,  in  the  sudden  awakening,  he  might 
miss  his  precarious  foothold,  and  fall  to  unavoid 
able  death.  She  found  it  almost  impossible  to 
follow  him;  nor  indeed  in  her  ordinary  frame 
of  mind  could  she  have  done  so.  But  the 
experience,  so  strange  and  thrilling,  had  lifted 
her  in  a  measure  above  the  control  of  the 
physical,  and  she  was  conscious  of  an  exalta 
tion  of  spirit  which  defied  difficulties  that 
would  ordinarily  have  terrified  her.  Still  she 
was  so  much  delayed  by  the  precautions  evi 
dently  necessary  for  her  life,  that  she  lost  sight 
of  her  brother,  and  her  heart  stood  still  with 
fright. 

Prayers  parted  her  white  lips  continually,  as 
she  slowly  climbed  the  hollow  crags  that 
seemed  to  close  together  and  forbid  her  further 
progress.  But  she  would  not  turn  back,  for  she 
could  not  believe  that  Andrew  had  perished. 
She  would  have  heard  the  fall  of  his  body  or 
its  splash  in  the  water  beneath,  and  so  she 
continued  to  climb  and  clamber,  though  every 
step  appeared  to  make  further  exploration  more 
and  more  impossible. 

177 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

With  a  startling  unexpectedness,  she  found 
herself  in  a  circular  chamber,  open  to  the  sky, 
and  on  one  of  the  large  boulders  lying  around, 
Andrew  sat.  He  was  still  in  the  depths  of  a 
somnambulistic  sleep  ;  but  he  had  his  lost  box  of 
gold  and  bank-notes  before  him,  and  he  was 
counting  the  money.  She  held  her  breath. 
She  stood  still  as  a  stone.  She  was  afraid  to 
think.  But  she  divined  at  once  the  whole  secret. 
Motionless  she  watched  him,  as  he  unrolled  and 
rerolled  the  notes,  as  he  counted  and  recounted 
the  gold,  and  then  carefully  locked  the  box,  and 
hid  the  key  under  the  edge  of  the  stone  on 
which  he  sat. 

What  would  he  now  do  with  the  box?  She 
watched  his  movements  with  a  breathless  in 
terest.  He  sat  still  for  a  few  moments,  clasping 
his  treasure  firmly  in  his  large,  brown  hands; 
then  he  rose,  and  put  it  in  an  aperture  above 
his  head,  filling  the  space  in  front  of  it  with  a 
stone  that  exactly  fitted.  Without  hurry,  and 
without  hesitation,  the  whole  transaction  was 
accomplished;  and  then,  with  an  equal  com 
posure  and  confidence,  he  retraced  his  steps 
through  the  cavern  and  over  the  rocks  and 
sands  to  his  own  sleeping  room. 

Christina  followed  as  rapidly  as  she  was  able ; 
but  her  exaltation  had  died  away,  and  left  her 
weak  and  ready  to  weep ;  so  that  when  she 

178 


A   GREAT   DELIVERANCE 

reached  the  open  beach,  Andrew  was  so  far  in 
advance  as  to  be  almost  out  of  sight.  She 
could  not  hope  to  overtake  him,  and  she  sat 
down  for  a  few  minutes  to  try  and  realise* 
the  great  relief  that  had  come  to  them  —  to 
wonder  —  to  clasp  her  hands  in  adoration,  to 
weep  tears  of  joy.  When  she  reached  her  home 
at  last,  it  was  quite  light.  She  looked  into  her 
brother's  room,  and  saw  that  he  was  lying 
motionless  in  the  deepest  sleep ;  but  Janet  was 
half-awake,  and  she  asked  sleepily :  — 

"  Whatever  are  you  about  so  early  for,  Chris 
tina?  Is  n't  the  day  long  enough  for  the  sorrow 
and  the  care  of  it?  " 

"  Oh,  Mother  !  Mother  !  The  day  is  n't  long 
enough  for  the  joy  and  the  blessing  of  it." 

"What  do  you  mean,  my  lass?  What  is  it  in 
your  face?  What  have  you  seen?  Who  has 
spoken  a  word  to  you?"  and  Janet  rose  up 
quickly,  and  put  her  hands  on  Christina's 
shoulders;  for  the  girl  was  swaying  and  trem 
bling,  and  ready  to  break  out  into  a  passion  of 
sobbing. 

"  I  have  seen,  Mother,  the  salvation  of  the 
Lord !  I  have  found  Andrew's  lost  money ! 
I  have  proved  that  poor  Jamie  is  innocent ! 
We  arena  poor  any  longer.  There  is  no  need 
to  borrow,  or  mortgage,  or  to  run  in  debt. 
Oh,  Mother !  Mother !  The  blessing  you 
179 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

bespoke  last  night,  the  blessing  we  were  not 
thinking  of,  has  come  to  us." 

"  The  Lord  be  thanked  !  I  knew  He  would 
"save  us,  in  His  own  time,  and  His  time  is  never 
too  late." 

Then  Christina  sat  down  by  her  mother's 
side,  and  in  low,  intense  tones,  told  her  all  she 
had  seen.  Janet  listened  with  kindling  face  and 
shining  eyes. 

"  The  mercy  of  God  is  on  His  beloved,  and 
His  regard  is  unto  His  elect,"  she  cried,  "  and  I 
am  glad  this  day,  that  I  never  doubted  Him, 
and  never  prayed  to  Him  with  a  grudge  at  the 
bottom  of  my  heart."  Then  she  began  to  dress 
herself  with  her  old  joyfulness,  humming  a  line 
of  this  and  that  psalm  or  paraphrase,  and 
stopping  in  the  middle  to  ask  Christina  another 
question;  until  the  kettle  began  to  simmer  to 
her  happy  mood,  and  she  suddenly  sung  out  joy 
fully  four  lines,  never  very  far  from  her  lips :  — 

"  My  heart  is  dashed  with  cares  and  fears, 
My  song  comes  fluttering  and  is  gone  ; 
Oh  !  high  above  this  home  of  tears, 
Eternal  Joy  sing  on  !  " 

How  would  it  feel  for  the  hyssop  on  the  wall  to 
turn  cedar,  I  wonder?  Just  about  as  Janet  and 
Christina  felt  that  morning,  eating  their  simple 
breakfast  with  glad  hearts.  Poor  as  the  viands 
1 80 


A   GREAT   DELIVERANCE 

were,  they  had  the  flavour  of  joy  and  thankful 
ness,  and  of  a  wondrous  salvation.  "  It  is  the 
Lord's  doing !  "  This  was  the  key  to  which 
the  two  women  set  all  their  hopes  and  rejoicing, 
and  yet  even  into  its  noble  melody  there  stole 
at  last  a  little  of  the  fret  of  earth.  For  suddenly 
Janet  had  a  fear  —  not  of  God,  but  of  man  — 
and  she  said  anxiously  to  her  daughter :  — 

"  You  should  have  brought  the  box  home  with 
you,  Christina.  O  my  lass,  if  some  other  body 
should  have  seen  what  you  have  seen,  then  we 
will  be  fairly  ruined  twice  over." 

"  No,  no,  Mother  !  I  would  not  have  touched 
the  box  for  all  there  is  in  it.  Andrew  must 
go  for  it  himself.  He  might  never  believe  it 
was  where  I  saw  it,  if  he  did  not  go  for  it. 
You  know  well  he  suspicioned  both  Jamie  and 
me;  and  indeed,  Mother  dear,  you  yourself 
thought  worse  of  Jamie  than  you  should  have 
done." 

"  Let  that  be  now,  Christina.  God  has 
righted  all.  We  will  have  no  casts-up.  If  I 
thought  of  any  one  wrongly,  I  am  sorry  for  it, 
and  I  could  not  say  more  than  that  even  to  my 
Maker.  If  ill  news  was  waiting  for  Andrew,  it 
would  have  shaken  him  off  his  pillow  ere  this." 

"  Let  him  sleep.  His  soul  took  his  body  a 
weary  walk  this  morning.  He  is  sore  needing 
sleep,  no  doubt." 

181 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE    NETS 

"  He  will  have  to  wake  up  now,  and  go  about 
his  business.  It  is  high  time." 

"  You  should  mind,  Mother,  what  a  tempest 
he  has  come  through ;  all  the  waves  and  billows 
of  sorrow  have  gone  over  him." 

"  He  is  a  good  man,  and  ought  to  be  the 
better  of  the  tempest.  His  ship  may  have  been 
sorely  beaten  and  tossed,  but  his  anchor  was 
fast  all  through  the  storm.  It  is  time  he  lifted 
anchor  now,  and  faced  the  brunt  and  the  buffet 
again.  An  idle  man,  if  he  is  not  a  sick  man, 
is  on  a  lee  shore;  let  him  put  out  to  sea; 
why,  lassie !  a  storm  is  better  than  a  ship 
wreck." 

"  To  be  sure,  Mother.  Here  the  dear  lad 
comes  !  "  and  with  that  Andrew  sauntered  slowly 
into  the  kitchen.  There  was  no  light  on  his 
face,  no  hope  or  purpose  in  his  movements. 
He  sat  down  at  the  table,  and  drew  his  cup  of 
tea  towards  him  with  an  air  of  indifference, 
almost  of  despair.  It  wounded  Janet.  She  put 
her  hand  on  his  hand,  and  compelled  him  to 
look  into  her  face.  As  he  did  so,  his  eyes 
opened  wide;  speculation,  wonder,  something 
like  hope  came  into  them.  The  very  silence  of 
the  two  women  —  a  silence  full  of  meaning  —  ar 
rested  his  soul.  He  looked  from  one  to  the 
other,  and  saw  the  same  inscrutable  joy  answer 
ing  his  gaze. 

182 


-A   GREAT   DELIVERANCE 

"What  is  it,  Mother?"  he  asked.  "I  can 
see  you  have  something  to  tell  me." 

"  I  have  that,  Andrew  !  O  my  dear  lad,  your 
money  is  found  !  I  do  not  think  a  penny-bit  of 
it  is  missing.  Don't  mind  me !  I  am  greeting 
for  the  very  joy  of  it  —  but  O  Andrew,  you  be 
to  praise  God  !  It  is  his  doing,  and  marvellous 
in  our  eyes.  Ask  Christina.  She  can  tell  you 
better  than  I  can." 

But  Andrew  could  not  speak.  He  touched 
his  sister's  hand,  and  dumbly  looked  into  her 
happy  face.  He  was  white  as  death,  but  he  sat 
bending  forward  to  her,  with  one  hand  out 
stretched,  as  if  to  clasp  and  grasp  the  thing  she 
had  to  tell  him.  So  Christina  told  him  the 
whole  story,  and  after  he  had  heard  it,  he  pushed 
his  plate  and  cup  away,  and  rose  up,  and  went 
into  his  room  and  shut  the  door.  And  Janet 
said  gratefully :  — 

"  It  is  all  right,  Christina.  He  '11  get  nothing 
but  good  advice  in  God's  council  chamber. 
We  '11  not  need  to  worry  ourselves  again  anent 
either  the  lad  or  the  money.  The  one  has 
come  to  his  senses,  and  the  other  will  come  to 
its  use.  And  we  will  cast  nothing  up  to  him ; 
the  best  boat  loses  her  rudder  once  in  a  while." 

It  was  not  long  before  Andrew  joined  his 
mother  and  sister,  and  the  man  was  a  changed 
man.  There  was  grave  purpose  in  his  calm 

'83 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

face,  and  a  joy,  too  deep  for  words,  in  the  glint  of 
his  eyes  and  in  the  graciousness  of  his  manner. 

"  Come,  Christina  !  "  he  said.  "  I  want  you 
you  to  go  with  me ;  we  will  bring  the  siller 
home  together.  But  I  forget —  it  is  maybe  too 
far  for  you  to  walk  again  to-day?  " 

"  I  would  walk  ten  times  as  far  to  pleasure 
you,  Andrew.  Do  you  know  the  place  I  told 
you  of  ?  " 

"Aye,  I  know  it  well.  I  hid  the  first  few 
shillings  there  that  I  ever  saved." 

As  they  walked  together  over  the  sands 
Christina  said :  "  I  wonder,  Andrew,  when  and 
how  you  carried  the  box  there?  Can  you 
guess  at  all  the  way  this  trouble  came  about?  " 

11  I  can ;  but  I  'm  ashamed  to  tell  you,  Chris 
tina.  You  see,  after  I  had  shown  you  the 
money,  I  took  a  fear  anent  it.  I  thought  maybe 
you  might  tell  Jamie  Logan,  and  the  possibility 
of  this  fretted  on  my  mind  until  it  became  a 
sure  thing  with  me.  So,  being  troubled  in  my 
heart,  I  doubtless  got  up  in  my  sleep  and  put 
the  box  in  my  oldest  and  safest  hiding-place." 

"  But  why  then  did  you  not  remember  that 
you  had  done  so? " 

''You   see,   dearie,   I  hid   it    in  my  sleep,  so 

then  it  was  only  in  my  sleep  I  knew  where  I 

had  put  it.     There  is  two  of  us,  I  am  thinking, 

lassie,  and   the  one  man  does  not   always  tell 

184 


A   GREAT   DELIVERANCE 

the  other  man  all  he  knows.  I  ought  to  have 
trusted  you,  Christina ;  but  I  doubted  you,  and, 
as  mother  says,  doubt  aye  fathers  sin  or  sorrow 
of  some  kind  or  other." 

"  You  might  have  safely  trusted  me,  Andrew." 

"  I  know  now  I  might.  But  he  is  lifeless 
that  is  faultless ;  and  the  wrong  I  have  done  I 
must  put  right.  I  am  thinking  of  Jamie  Logan  ?  " 

"  Poor  Jamie  !  You  know  now  that  he  never 
wronged  you?  " 

"  I  know,  and  I  will  let  him  know  as  soon  as 
possible.  When  did  you  hear  from  him?  And 
where  is  he  at  all?  " 

"  I  don't  know  just  where  he  is.  He  sailed 
away  yon  time ;  and  when  he  got  to  New  York, 
he  left  the  ship." 

"  What  for  did  he  do  that?  " 

"  O  Andrew,  I  cannot  tell.  He  was  angry 
with  me  for  not  coming  to  Glasgow  as  I  prom 
ised  him  I  would." 

"You  promised  him  that?  " 

"  Aye,  the  night  you  were  taken  so  bad. 
But  how  could  I  leave  you  in  Dead  Man's 
Dale?  and  mother  here  lone  to  help  you  through 
it.  So  I  wrote  and  told  him  I  be  to  see  you 
through  your  trouble,  and  he  went  away  from 
Scotland  and  said  he  would  never  come  back 
again  till  we  found  out  how  sorely  all  of  us  had 
wronged  him." 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"  Don't  cry,  Christina !  I  will  seek  Jamie 
over  the  wide  world  till  I  find  him.  I  wonder  at 
myself.  I  am  shamed  of  myself.  However,  will 
you  forgive  me  for  all  the  sorrow  I  have  brought 
on  you? " 

"You  were  not  altogether  to  blame,  Andrew. 
You  were  ill  to  death  at  the  time.  Your  brain 
was  on  fire,  poor  laddie,  and  it  would  be  a 
sin  to  hold  you  countable  for  any  word  you 
said  or  did  not  say.  But  if  you  will  seek  after 
Jamie,  either  by  letter  or  your  own  travel,  and 
say  as  much  to  him  as  you  have  said  to  me, 
I  may  be  happy  yet,  for  all  that  has  come 
and  gone." 

"  What  else  can  I  do  but  seek  the  lad  I  have 
wronged  so  cruelly?  What  else  can  I  do  for 
the  sister  that  never  deserved  ill  word  or  deed 
from  me?  No,  I  cannot  rest  until  I  have  made 
the  wrong  to  both  of  you  as  far  right  as 
sorrow  and  siller  can  do." 

When  they  reached  the  cavern,  Andrew  would 
not  let  Christina  enter  it  with  him.  He  said  he 
knew  perfectly  well  the  spot  to  which  he  must 
go,  and  he  would  not  have  her  tread  again  the 
dangerous  road.  So  Christina  sat  down  on  the 
rocks  to  wait  for  him,  and  the  water  tinkled 
beneath  her  feet,  and  the  sunshine  dimpled  the 
water,  and  the  fresh  salt  wind  blew  strength  and 
happiness  into  her  heart  and  hopes.  In  a  short 
1 86 


A   GREAT   DELIVERANCE 

time,  the  last  moment  of  her  anxiety  was  over ; 
and  Andrew  came  back  to  her,  with  the  box 
and  its  precious  contents  in  his  hands.  "  It 
is  all  here !  "  he  said,  and  his  voice  had  its  old 
tones;  for  his  heart  was  ringing  to  the  music 
of  its  happiness,  knowing  that  the  door  of 
fortune  was  now  open  to  him,  and  that  he 
could  walk  up  to  success,  as  to  a  friend,  on 
his  own  hearthstone. 

That  afternoon  he  put  the  money  in  Largo 
bank,  and  made  arrangements  for  his  mother's 
and  sister's  comfort  for  some  weeks.  "For 
there  is  nothing  I  can  do  for  my  own  side,  until 
I  have  found  Jamie  Logan,  and  put  Christina's 
and  his  affairs  right,"  he  said.  And  Janet  was  of 
the  same  opinion. 

"  You  cannot  bless  yourself,  laddie,  until  you 
bless  others,"  she  said,  "  and  the  sooner  you  go 
about  the  business,  the  better  for  everybody." 

So  that  night  Andrew  started  for  Glasgow, 
and  when  he  reached  that  city,  he  was  fortu 
nate  enough  to  find  the  very  ship  in  which 
Jamie  had  sailed  away,  lying  at  her  dock.  The 
first  mate  recalled  the  young  man  readily. 

"  The  more  by  token  that  he  had  my  own 
name,"  he  said  to  Andrew.  "  We  are  both  of 
us  Fife  Logans,  and  I  took  a  liking  to  the  lad, 
and  he  told  me  his  trouble." 

"  About  some  lost  money?  "  asked  Andrew. 
187 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"  Nay,  he  said  nothing  about  money.  It  was 
some  love  trouble,  I  take  it.  He  thought  he 
could  better  forget  the  girl  if  he  ran  away  from 
his  country  and  his  work.  He  has  found  out 
his  mistake  by  this  time,  no  doubt." 

"  You  knew  he  was  going  to  leave  '  The  Line ' 
then?" 

"  Yes,  we  let  him  go ;  and  I  heard  say  that  he 
had  shipped  on  an  American  line,  sailing  to 
Cuba,  or  New  Orleans,  or  somewhere  near  the 
equator." 

"  Well,  I  shall  try  and  find  him." 

"  I  would  n't,  if  I  was  you.  He  is  sure  to 
come  back  to  his  home  again.  He  showed  me 
a  lock  of  the  lassie's  hair.  Man  !  a  single  strand 
of  it  would  pull  him  back  to  Scotland  sooner 
or  later." 

"  But  I  have  wronged  him  sorely.  I  did  not 
mean  to  wrong  him,  but  that  does  not  alter  the 
case." 

"  Not  a  bit.  Love  sickness  is  one  thing ;  a 
wrong  against  a  man's  good  name  or  good 
fortune,  is  a  different  matter,  I  would  find  him 
and  right  him." 

"  That  is  what  I  want  to  do." 

And   so   when   the    Circassia   sailed    out    of 

Greenock  for  New  York,  Andrew  Binnie  sailed 

in  her.     "  It  is  not  a  very  convenient  journey," 

he  said  rather  sadly,  as  he  left  Scotland  behind 

188 


A   GREAT   DELIVERANCE 

him ;  "  but  wrong  has  been  done,  and  wrong 
has  no  warrant,  and  I  '11  never  have  a  good  day 
till  I  put  the  wrong  right;  so  the  sooner  the 
better,  for,  as  Mother  says,  '  that  which  a  fool 
does  at  the  end  a  wise  man  does  at  the 
beginning.'  " 


189 


CHAPTER   IX 
THE  RIGHTING  OF  A  WRONG 

So  Andrew  sailed  for  New  York,  and  life 
resumed  its  long  forgotten  happy  tenor  in  the 
Binnie  cottage.  Janet  sang  about  her  spotless 
houseplace,  feeling  almost  as  if  it  was  a  new 
gift  of  God  to  her;  and  Christina  regarded 
their  small  and  simple  belongings  with  that 
tender  and  excessive  affection  which  we  are  apt 
to  give  to  whatever  has  been  all  but  lost  and 
then  unexpectedly  recovered.  Both  women 
involuntarily  showed  this  feeling  in  the  extra 
care  they  took  of  everything.  Never  had  the 
floors  and  chairs  and  tables  been  scrubbed  and 
rubbed  to  such  spotless  beauty;  and  every  cup 
and  platter  and  small  ornament  was  washed 
and  dusted  with  such  care  as  could  only  spring 
from  heart-felt  gratitude  in  its  possession. 
Naturally  they  had  much  spare  time;  for,  as 
Janet  said,  "having  no  man  to  cook  and  wash 
for  lifted  half  the  work  from  their  hands;  "  but 
they  were  busy  women  for  all  that.  Janet 
began  a  patch-work  quilt  of  a  wonderful  design 
190 


THE   RIGHTING   OF   A  WRONG 

as  a  wedding  present  for  Christina;  and  as  the 
whole  village  contributed  "pieces  "  for  its  con 
struction,  the  whole  village  felt  an  interest  in 
its  progress.  It  was  a  delightful  excuse  for 
Janet's  resumption  of  her  old  friendly,  gos 
sipy  ways;  and  every  afternoon  saw  her  in 
some  crony's  house,  spreading  out  her  work,  and 
explaining  her  design,  and  receiving  the  praises 
and  sometimes  the  advice  of  her  acquaintances. 

Christina  also,  quietly  but  yet  hopefully, 
began  again  her  preparations  for  her  marriage; 
for  Janet  laughed  at  her  fears  and  doubts. 
"Andrew  was  sure  to  find  Jamie,  and  Jamie 
was  sure  to  be  glad  to  come  home  again.  It 
stands  to  reason,"  she  said  confidently.  "The 
very  sight  of  Andrew  will  be  a  cordial  of  glad 
ness  to  him;  for  he  will  know,  as  soon  as  he 
sees  the  face  of  him,  that  the  brother  will 
mean  the  sister  and  the  wedding  ring.  If  you 
get  the  spindle  and  distaff  ready,  my  lass,  God 
is  sure  to  send  the  flax ;  and  by  the  same  token, 
if  you  get  your  plenishing  made  and  marked, 
and  your  bride-clothes  finished,  God  will  cer 
tainly  send  the  husband." 

"Jamie  said  in  his  last  letter  —  the  one  in 
which  he  bid  me  farewell  —  'I  will  never  come 
back  to  Scotland. '  " 

" Toots!  Havers!  '  I  will'  is  for  the  Lord 
God  Almighty  to  say.  A  sailor-man's  '  I  will  ' 
191 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

is  just  breath,  that  any  wind  may  blow  away. 
When  Andrew  gives  him  the  letter  you  sent, 
Jamie  will  not  be  able  to  wait  for  the  next  boat 
for  Scotland. " 

"  He  may  have  taken  a  fancy  to  America 
and  want  to  stop  there." 

"What  are  you  talking  about,  Christina 
Binnie?  There  is  nothing  but  scant  and  want 
in  them  foreign  countries.  Oh !  my  lass,  he 
will  come  home,  and  be  glad  to  come  home;  and 
you  will  have  the  hank  in  your  own  hand.  See 
that  you  spin  it  cannily  and  happily." 

"  I  hope  Andrew  will  not  make  himself 
sick  again  looking  for  the  lost." 

"  I  shall  have  little  pity  for  him,  if  he  does. 
I  told  him  to  make  good  days  for  himself;  why 
not?  He  is  about  his  duty;  the  law  of  kind 
ness  is  in  his  heart,  and  the  purpose  of  put 
ting  right  what  he  put  wrong  is  the  wind  that 
drives  him.  Well  then,  his  journey  —  be  it 
short  or  long  —  ought  to  be  a  holiday  to  him; 
and  a  body  does  not  deserve  a  holiday  if  he 
cannot  take  advantage  of  one.  Them  were  my 
last  words  to  Andrew." 

"Jamie  may  have  seen  another  lass.  I  have 
heard  say  the  lassies  in  America  are  gey 
bonnie. " 

"I  '11  just  be  stepping  if  you  have  nothing 
but  frets  and  fears  to  say.  When  things  go 
192 


THE   RIGHTING   OF   A  WRONG 

wrong,  it  is  mostly  because  folks  will  have 
them  wrong  and  no  other  way." 

"In  this  world,  Mother,  the  gifts  and  the 
gaffs-" 

"In  this  world,  Christina,  the  gifts  and  the 
gaffs  generally  balance  one  another.  And  if 
they  don't,  —  mind  what  I  say,  —  it  is  because 
there  is  a  moral  defect  on  the  failing  side. 
Oh!  but  women  are  flightersome  and  easy 
frighted." 

"  Whyles  you  have  fears  yourself,  Mother. " 

"Ay,  I  am  that  foolish  whyles;  but  I  shall 
be  a  sick,  weak  body,  when  I  can't  outmarch 
the  worst  of  them." 

"You  are  just  an  oracle,  Mother." 

"  Not  I ;  but  if  I  was  a  very  saint,  I  would 
say  every  morning  of  my  life :  '  Now  then, 
Soul,  hope  for  good  and  have  good. '  Many  a 
sad  heart  folks  get  they  have  no  need  to  have. 
Take  out  your  needle  and  thimble  and  go  to 
your  wedding  clothes,  lassie;  you  will  need 
them  before  the  summer  is  over.  You  may 
take  my  word  for  that." 

"If  Jamie  should  still  love  me." 

"  Love  you !  He  will  be  that  far  gone  in 
love  with  you  that  there  will  be  no  help  for 
him  but  standing  up  before  the  minister.  That 
will  be  seen  and  heard  tell  of.  Lift  your 
white  seam,  and  be  busy  at  it;  there  is  noth- 
13  193 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE  NETS 

ing  else  to  do  till  tea  time,  and  I  am  away  for 
an  hour  or  two  to  Maggie  Buchans.  Her  man 
went  to  Edinburgh  this  morning.  What  for, 
I  don't  know  yet,  but  I  '11  maybe  find  out." 

It  was  on  this  very  afternoon  that  Janet  first 
heard  that  there  was  trouble  and  a  sound  of 
more  trouble  at  Braelands.  Sophy  had  driven 
down  in  her  carriage  the  previous  day  to  see  her 
cousin  Isobel  Murray,  and  some  old  friends 
who  had  gone  into  Isobel's  had  found  the 
little  Mistress  of  Braelands  weeping  bitterly 
in  her  cousin's  arms.  After  this  news,  Janet 
did  not  stay  long  at  Maggie  Buchans;  she 
carried  her  patch -work  to  Isobel  Murray's,  and 
as  Isobel  did  not  voluntarily  name  the  subject, 
Janet  boldly  introduced  it  herself. 

"  I  heard  tell  that  Sophy  Braelands  was  here 
yesterday. " 

"  Aye,  she  was." 

"  A  grand  thing  for  you,  Isobel,  to  have  the 
Braelands's  yellow  coach  and  pair  standing 
before  the  Murray  cottage  all  of  two  or  three 
hours. " 

"It  did  not  stand  before  my  cottage,  Janet. 
The  man  went  to  the  public  house  and  gave 
the  horses  a  drink,  and  himself  one  too,  or  I 
am  much  mista'en,  for  I  had  to  send  little 
Pete  Galloway  after  him." 

"  I  think  Sophy  might  have  called  on  me." 
194 


THE   RIGHTING  OF   A  WRONG 

"  No  doubt  she  would  have  done  so,  had  she 
known  that  Andrew  was  away;  but  I  never 
thought  to  tell  her  until  the  last  moment." 

"  Is  she  well  ?  I  was  hearing  that  she 
looked  but  poorly." 

"You  were  hearing  the  truth.  She  looks 
bad  enough." 

"  Is  she  happy,  Isobel  ?  " 

"I  never  asked  her  that  question." 

"You  have  eyes  and  observation.  Didn't 
you  ask  yourself  that  question?" 

"Maybe  I  did." 

"What  then?" 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  anent  it." 

"  What  was  she  talking  about  ?  You  know, 
Isobel,  that  Sophy  is  kin  of  mine,  and  I  loved 
her  mother  like  my  own  sister.  So  I  be  to 
feel  anxious  about  the  little  body.  I  'm  feared 
things  are  not  going  as  well  as  they  might 
do.  Madame  Braelands  is  but  a  hard-grained 
woman. " 

"She  is  as  cruel  a  woman  and  as  bad  a 
woman  as  there  is  between  this  and  wherever 
she  may  be." 

"Isn't  she  at  Braelands?" 

"Not  for  a  week  or  two.  She's  away  to 
Acker  Castle,  and  her  son  with  her." 

"  And  why  not  Sophy  also  ?  " 

"The  poor  lassie  would  not  go  — -she  says  she 
195 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

could  not.  Well,  Janet,  I  may  as  good  confess 
that  there  is  something  wrong  that  she  does 
not  like  to  speak  of  yet.  She  is  just  at  the 
crying-point  now;  the  reason  why  and  where 
fore  will  come  anon." 

"But  she  be  to  say  something  to  you." 
"I  '11  tell  you.  She  said  she  was  worn  out 
with  learning  this  and  that,  and  she  was  hum 
bled  to  death  to  find  out  how  ignorant  and  full 
of  faults  she  was.  Madame  Braelands  is  both 
schoolmistress  and  mother-in-law,  and  there 
does  not  seem  to  be  a  minute  of  the  day  in 
which  the  poor  child  is  n't  checked  and  cor 
rected.  She  has  lost  all  her  pretty  ways,  and 
she  says  she  cannot  learn  Madame's  ways;  and 
she  is  feared  for  herself,  and  shamed  for  her 
self.  And  when  the  invitation  came  for  Acker 
Castle,  Madame  told  her  she  must  not  accept 
it  for  her  husband's  sake,  because  all  his  great 
friends  were  to  be  there,  and  they  were  to  dis 
cuss  his  going  to  Parliament,  and  she  would 
only  shame  and  disgrace  him.  And  you  may 
well  conceive  that  Sophy  turned  obstinate  and 
said  she  would  bide  in  her  own  home.  And, 
someway,  her  husband  did  not  urge  her  to  go, 
and  this  hurt  her  worst  of  all;  and  she  felt 
lonely  and  broken-hearted,  and  so  came  to  see 
me.  That  is  everything  about  it ;  but  keep  it 
to  yourself,  Janet,  it  is  n't  for  common  clash." 
196 


THE   RIGHTING   OF   A  WRONG 

"I  know  that.  But  did  Madame  Braelands 
and  her  son  really  go  away  and  leave  Sophy 
her  lone?  " 

"  They  left  her  with  two  or  three  teachers  to 
worry  the  life  out  of  her.  They  went  away 
two  days  ago;  and  Madame  was  in  full  feather 
and  glory,  with  her  son  at  her  beck  and  call, 
and  all  her  grand  airs  and  manners  about  her. 
Sophy  says  she  watched  them  away  from  her 
bedroom  window,  and  then  she  cried  her  heart 
out.  And  she  could  n't  learn  her  lessons,  and 
so  sent  the  man  teacher  and  the  woman  teacher 
about  their  business.  She  says  she  will  not 
try  the  weary  books  again  to  please  anybody; 
they  make  her  head  ache  so  that  she  is  like  to 
swoon  away." 

"Sophy  was  never  fond  of  books;  but  I 
thought  she  would  like  the  music." 

"Aye,  if  they  would  let  her  have  her  own 
way  about  it.  She  has  her  father's  little 
fiddle,  and  when  she  was  but  a  bare-footed 
lassie,  she  played  on  it  wonderful." 

"  I  remember.  You  would  have  thought 
there  was  a  linnet  living  inside  of  it." 

"  Well,  she  wanted  to  have  some  lessons  on 
it,  and  her  husband  was  willing  enough,  but 
Madame  went  into  hysterics  about  the  idea  of 
anything  so  vulgar.  There  is  a  constant  bitter 
little  quarrel  between  the  two  women,  and 
197 


A  KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

Sophy  says  she  cannot  go  to  her  husband  with 
every  slight  and  cruelty.  Madame  laughs  at 
her,  or  pretends  to  pet  her,  or  else  gets  into 
passions  at  what  she  calls  Sophy's  unreason 
ableness;  and  Archie  Braelands  is  weary  to 
death  of  complaining,  and  just  turns  sulky  or 
goes  out  of  the  house.  Oh,  Janet,  I  can  see 
and  feel  the  bitter,  cruel  task-woman  over  the 
poor,  foolish  child !  She  is  killing  her,  and 
Archie  Braelands  does  not  see  the  right  and 
the  wrong  of  it  all." 

"I'll  make  him  see  it" 

"You  will  hold  your  tongue,  Janet.  They 
who  stir  in  muddy  water  only  make  it  worse." 

"But  Archie  Braelands  loved  her,  or  he 
would  not  have  married  her;  and  if  he  knew 
the  right  and  the  wrong  of  poor  Sophy's 
position  —  " 

"I  tell  you,  that  is  nothing  to  it,  Janet." 

"It  is  everything  to  it.  Right  is  right,  in 
the  devil's  teeth." 

"I  'm  sorry  I  said  a  word  to  you;  it  is  a 
dangerous  thing  to  get  between  a  man  and  his 
wife.  I  would  not  do  it,  not  even  for  Sophy; 
for  reason  here  or  reason  there,  folks  be  to  take 
care  of  themselves;  and  my  man  gets  siller 
from  Braelands,  more  than  we  can  afford  to 
lose." 

"You  are  taken  with  a  fit  of  the  prudentials, 
198 


THE   RIGHTING  OF   A  WRONG 

Isobel;  and  it  is  just  extraordinar'  how  selfish 
they  make  folk." 

And  yet  Janet  herself,  when  going  over  the 
conversation  with  Christina,  was  quite  inclined 
on  second  thoughts  not  to  interfere  in  Sophy's 
affairs,  though  both  were  anxious  and  sorrow 
ful  about  the  motherless  little  woman. 

"  She  ought  to  be  with  her  husband  wherever 
he  is,  court  or  castle,"  said  Christina.  "She 
is  a  foolish  woman  to  let  him  go  away  with  her 
enemy,  and  such  a  clever  enemy  as  Madame 
Braelands  is.  I  think,  Mother,  you  ought  to 
call  on  Sophy,  and  give  her  a  word  of  love  and 
a  bit  of  good  advice.  Her  mother  was  very 
close  to  you." 

"I  know,  Christina;  but  Isobel  was  right 
about  the  folly  of  coming  between  a  man  and 
his  wife.  I  would  just  get  the  wyte  of  it. 
Many  a  sore  heart  I  have  had  for  meddling 
with  what  I  could  not  mend." 

Yet  Janet  carried  the  lonely,  sorrowful  little 
wife  on  her  heart  continually;  though,  after  a 
week  or  two  had  passed  and  nothing  new  was 
heard  from  Braelands,  every  one  began  to  give 
their  sympathy  to  Christina  and  her  affairs. 
Janet  was  ready  to  talk  of  them.  There  were 
some  things  she  wished  to  explain,  though  she 
was  too  proud  to  do  so  until  her  friends  felt 
interest  enough  to  ask  for  explanations.  And 
199 


A  KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

as  soon  as  it  was  discovered  that  Andrew  had 
gone  to  America,  the  interest  and  curiosity 
was  sufficiently  keen  and  eager  to  satisfy  even 
Janet. 

"It  fairly  took  the  breath  from  me,"  said 
Sabrina  Roy,  "when  I  was  told  the  like  of 
that.  I  cannot  think  there  is  a  word  of  truth 
in  such  a  report." 

Mistress  Roy  was  sitting  at  Janet's  fireside, 
and  so  had  the  privilege  of  a  guest ;  but,  apart 
from  this,  it  gave  Janet  a  profound  satisfaction 
to  answer:  "Ay,  well,  Sabrina,  the  clash  is 
true  for  once  in  a  lifetime.  Andrew  has  gone 
to  America,  and  the  Lord  knows  where  else 
beside." 

"Preserve  us  all!  I  wouldn't  believe  it, 
only  from  your  own  lips,  Janet.  Whatever 
would  be  the  matter  that  sent  him  stravaging 
round  the  world,  with  no  ship  of  his  own 
beneath  his  feet  or  above  his  head?" 

"A  matter  of  right  and  wrong,  Sabrina. 
My  Andrew  has  a  strict  conscience  and  a  sense 
of  right  that  would  be  ornamental  in  a  very 
saint.  Not  to  make  a  long  story  of  it,  he  and 
Jamie  Logan  had  a  quarrel.  It  was  the  night 
Andrew  took  his  inflammation,  and  it  is  very 
sure  his  brain  was  on  fire  and  off  its  judgment 
at  the  time.  But  we  were  none  of  us  thinking 
of  the  like  of  that ;  and  so  the  bad  words  came, 
200 


THE   RIGHTING   OF  A  WRONG 

and  stirred  up  the  bad  blood,  and  if  I  had  n't 
been  there  myself,  there  might  have  been 
spilled  blood  to  end  all  with,  for  they  were 
both  black  angry." 

"  Guide  us,  woman !     What  was  it  all  about  ? " 

"Well,  Sabrina,  it  was  about  siller;  that  is 
all  I  am  free  to  say.  Andrew  was  sure  he  was 
right,  and  Jamie  was  sure  he  was  wrong;  and 
they  were  going  fairly  to  one  another's  throats, 
when  I  stepped  in  and  flung  them  apart." 

"And  poor  Christina  had  the  buff  and  the 
buffet  to  take  and  to  bear  for  their  tempers?  " 

"  Not  just  that.  Jamie  begged  her  to  go 
away  with  him,  and  the  lassie  would  have  gone 
if  I  had  n't  got  between  her  and  the  door.  I 
had  a  hard  few  minutes,  I  can  tell  you,  Sabrina; 
for  when  men  are  beside  themselves  with  pas 
sion,  they  are  in  the  devil's  employ,  and  it  's 
no  easy  work  to  take  a  job  out  of  his  hands. 
But  I  sent  Jamie  flying  down  the  cliff,  and  I 
locked  the  door  and  put  the  key  in  my  pocket, 
and  ordered  Andrew  and  Christina  off  to  their 
beds,  and  thought  I  would  leave  the  rest  of  the 
business  till  the  next  day;  but  before  midnight 
Andrew  was  raving,  and  the  affair  was  out  of 
my  hands  altogether. " 

"It  is  a  wonder  Christina  did  not  go  after 
her  lad." 

"What  are  you  talking  about,  Sabrina?  It 
201 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

would  have  been  a  world's  wonder  and  a  black, 
burning  shame  if  my  girl  had  gone  after  her 
lad  in  such  a  calamitous  time.  No,  no,  Chris 
tina  Binnie  is  n't  the  kind  of  girl  that  shrinks 
in  the  wetting.  When  her  time  of  trial  came, 
she  did  the  whole  of  her  duty,  showing  herself 
day  by  clay  a  witness  and  a  testimony  to  her 
decent,  kirk-going  forefathers." 

"And  so  Andrew  has  found  out  he  was 
wrong  and  Jamie  Logan  right?" 

"Aye,  he  has.  And  the  very  minute  he  did 
so,  he  made  up  his  mind  to  seek  the  lad  far 
and  near  and  confess  his  fault." 

"And  bring  him  back  to  Christina?" 

"Just  so.  What  for  not?  He  parted  them, 
and  he  has  the  right  and  duty  to  bring  them 
together  again,  though  it  take  the  best  years  of 
his  life  and  the  last  bawbee  of  his  money." 

"  Folks  were  saying  his  money  was  all  spent. " 

"Folks  are  far  wrong  then.  Andrew  has  all 
the  money  he  ever  had.  Andrew  is  n't  a  brag- 
ger,  and  his  money  has  been  silent  so  far,  but 
it  will  speak  ere  long." 

"  With  money  to  the  fore,  you  should  n't  have 
been  so  scrimpit  with  yourselves  in  such  a 
time  of  work  and  trouble.  Folks  noticed  it." 

"  I  don't  believe  in  wasting  anything,  Sabrina, 
even  grief.     I  did  not   spend  a  penny,   nor  a 
tear,  nor  a  bit  of  strength,  that  was  useless. 
202 


THE   RIGHTING   OF   A  WRONG 

What  for  should  I  ?  And  if  folks  noticed  we 
were  scrimpit,  why  did  n't  they  think  about 
helping  us  ?  No,  thank  God !  We  have 
enough  and  a  good  bit  to  spare,  for  all  that 
has  come  and  gone,  and  if  it  pleases  the  Maker 
of  Happiness  to  bring  Jamie  Logan  back 
again,  we  will  have  a  bridal  that  will  make  a 
monumental  year  in  Pittendurie. " 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  tell  o'  that.  I  never 
did  approve  of  two  or  three  at  a  wedding.  The 
more  the  merrier." 

"That  is  a  very  sound  observe.  My  Chris 
tina  will  have  a  wedding  to  be  seen  and  heard 
tell  of  from  one  sacramental  occasion  to 
another. " 

"Well,  then,  good  luck  to  Andrew  Binnie, 
and  may  he  come  soon  home  and  well  home, 
and  sorrow  of  all  kinds  keep  a  day's  sail 
behind  him.  And  surely  he  will  go  back  to 
the  boats  when  he  has  saved  his  conscience, 
for  there  is  never  a  better  sailor  and  fisher  on 
the  North  Sea.  The  men  were  all  saying  that 
when  he  was  so  ill." 

"  It  is  the  very  truth.  Andrew  can  read  the 
sea  as  well  as  the  minister  can  read  the  Book. 
He  never  turns  his  back  on  it;  his  boat  is 
always  ready  to  kiss  the  wind  in  its  teeth.  I 
have  been  with  him  when  rip !  rip !  rip !  went 
her  canvas;  but  I  hadn't  a  single  fear,  I  knew 
203 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

the  lad  at  the  helm.  I  knew  he  would  bring 
her  to  her  bearings  beautifully.  He  always 
did;  and  then  how  the  gallant  bit  of  a  creature 
would  shake  herself  and  away  like  a  sea-gull. 
My  Andrew  is  a  son  of  the  sea  as  all  his  for 
bears  were.  Its  salt  is  in  his  blood,  and  when 
the  tide  is  going  with  a  race  and  a  roar,  and 
the  break  of  the  waves  and  the  howl  of  the  wind 
is  like  a  thousand  guns,  then  Andrew  Binnie 
is  in  the  element  he  likes  best;  aye,  though  his 
boat  be  spinning  round  like  a  laddie's  top." 

"Well,  Janet,  I  will  be  going." 

"Mind  this,  Sabrina,  I  have  told  you  all  to 
my  heart's  keel;  and  if  folks  are  saying  to  you 
that  Jamie  has  given  Christina  the  slip,  or  that 
the  Binnies  are  scrimpit  for  poverty's  sake,  or 
the  like  of  any  other  ill-natured  thing,  you 
will  be  knowing  how  to  answer  them." 

"  'Deed,  I  will !  And  I  am  real  glad  things 
are  so  well  with  you  all,  Janet." 

"Well,  and  like  to  be  better,  thank  God,  as 
soon  as  Andrew  gets  back  from  foreign  parts." 

In  the  meantime,  Andrew,  after  a  pleasant 
sail,  had  reached  New  York.  He  made  many 
friends  on  the  ship,  and  in  the  few  days  of  bad 
weather  usually  encountered  came  to  the  front, 
as  he  always  did  when  winds  were  blowing 
and  sailor-men  had  to  wear  oil  skins.  The 
first  sight  of  the  New  World  made  him  silent. 
204 


THE    RIGHTING   OF  A  WRONG 

He  was  too  prudent  to  hazard  an  opinion  about 
any  place  so  remote  and  so  strange,  though  he 
cautiously  admitted  "the  lift  was  as  blue  as  in 
Scotland  and  the  sunshine  not  to  speak  ill 
of. "  But  as  his  ideas  of  large  towns  had  been 
formed  upon  Edinburgh  and  Glasgow,  he  could 
hardly  admire  New  York.  "It  looks,"  he  said 
to  an  acquaintance  who  was  showing  him  the 
city,  "  it  looks  as  if  it  had  been  built  in  a 
hurry;"  for  he  was  thinking  of  the  granite 
streets  and  piers  of  Glasgow.  "Besides,"  he 
added,  "there  is  no  romance  or  beauty  about 
it;  it  is  all  straight  lines  and  squares.  Man 
alive!  you  should  see  Edinburgh  the  sel'  of 
it,  the  castle,  and  the  links,  and  the  bonnie 
terraces,  and  the  Highland  men  parading  the 
streets;  it  is  just  a  bit  of  poetry  made  out  of 
builders'  stones." 

With  the  information  he  had  received  from 
the  mate  of  the  "Circassia,"  and  his  advice 
and  directions,  Andrew  had  little  difficulty  in 
locating  Jamie  Logan.  He  found  his  name  in 
the  list  of  seamen  sailing  a  steamer  between 
New  York  and  New  Orleans;  and  this  steamer 
was  then  lying  at  her  pier  on  the  North  River. 
It  was  not  very  hard  to  obtain  permission  to 
interview  Jamie;  and  armed  with  this  author 
ity,  he  went  to  the  ship  one  very  hot  afternoon 
about  four  o'clock. 

205 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

Jamie  was  at  the  hold,  attending  to  the  un 
shipping  of  cargo;  and  as  he  lifted  himself 
from  the  stooping  attitude  which  his  work 
demanded,  he  saw  Andrew  Binnie  approaching 
him.  He  pretended,  however,  not  to  see  him, 
and  became  suddenly  very  deeply  interested 
in  the  removal  of  a  certain  case  of  goods. 
Andrew  was  quite  conscious  of  the  affectation, 
but  he  did  not  blame  Jamie;  it  only  made  him 
the  more  anxious  to  atone  for  the  wrong  he  had 
done.  He  stepped  rapidly  forward,  and  with 
extended  hands  said  :  — 

"Jamie  Logan,  I  have  come  all  the  way  from 
Scotland  to  ask  you  to  forgive  me.  I  thought 
wrong  of  you,  and  I  said  wrong  to  you,  and 
I  am  sorry  for  it.  Can  you  pass  it  by  for 
Christ's  sake?" 

Jamie  looked  into  the  speaker's  face,  frankly 
and  gravely,  but  with  the  air  of  a  man  who 
has  found  something  he  thought  lost.  He 
took  Andrew's  hands  in  his  own  hands  and 
answered :  — 

"  Aye,  I  can  forgive  you  with  all  my  heart. 
I  knew  you  would  come  to  yourself  some  day, 
Andrew;  but  it  has  seemed  a  long  time  wait 
ing.  I  have  not  a  word  against  you  now.  A 
man  that  can  come  three  thousand  miles  to 
own  up  to  a  wrong  is  worth  forgiving.  How 
is  Christina?  " 

206 


THE   RIGHTING   OF   A  WRONG 

"Christina  is  well,  but  tired-like  with  the 
care  of  me  through  my  long  sickness.  She 
has  sent  you  a  letter,  and  here  it  is.  The 
poor  lass  has  suffered  more  than  either  of  us; 
but  never  a  word  of  complaining  from  her. 
Jamie,  I  have  promised  her  to  bring  you  back 
with  me.  Can  you  come?  " 

"  I  will  go  back  to  Scotland  with  you  gladly, 
if  it  can  be  managed.  I  am  fair  sick  for  the 
soft  gray  skies,  and  the  keen,  salt  wind  of  the 
North  Sea.  Last  Sabbath  Day  I  was  in  New 
Orleans  —  fairly  baking  with  the  heat  of  the 
place  —  and  I  thought  I  heard  the  kirk  bells 
across  the  sands,  and  saw  Christina  stepping 
down  the  cliff  with  the  Book  in  her  hands 
and  her  sweet  smile  making  all  hearts  but 
mine  happy.  Andrew  man,  I  could  not  keep 
the  tears  out  of  my  een,  and  my  heart  was 
away  down  to  my  feet,  and  I  was  fairly  sick 
with  longing." 

They  left  the  ship  together  and  spent  the 
night  in  each  other's  company.  Their  room 
was  a  small  one,  in  a  small  river-side  hotel, 
hot  and  close  smelling;  but  the  two  men 
created  their  own  atmosphere.  For  as  they 
talked  of  their  old  life,  the  clean,  sharp  breezes 
of  Pittendurie  swept  through  the  stifling  room; 
they  tasted  the  brine  on  the  wind's  wings,  and 
felt  the  wet,  firm  sands  under  their  feet.  Or 
207 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

they  talked  of  the  fishing-boats,  until  they 
could  see  their  sails  bellying  out,  as  they  lay 
down  just  enough  to  show  they  felt  the  fresh 
wind  tossing  the  spray  from  their  bows  and 
lifting  themselves  over  the  great  waves  as  if 
they  stepped  over  them. 

Before  they  slept,  they  had  talked  them 
selves  into  a  fever  of  home-sickness,  and  the 
first  work  of  the  next  day  was  to  make  arrange 
ments  for  Jamie's  release  from  his  obligations. 
There  was  some  delay  and  difficulty  about  this 
matter;  but  it  was  finally  completed  to  the 
satisfaction  of  all  parties,  and  Andrew  and 
Jamie  took  the  next  Anchor  Line  steamer  for 
Glasgow. 

On  the  voyage  home,  the  two  men  got  very 
close  to  each  other,  not  in  any  accidental  mood 
of  confidence,  but  out  of  a  thoughtful  and 
assured  conviction  of  respect.  Andrew  told 
Jamie  all  about  his  lost  money  and  the  plans 
for  his  future  which  had  been  dependent  on  it, 
and  Jamie  said:  — 

"  No  wonder  you  went  off  your  health  and 
senses  with  the  thought  of  your  loss,  Andrew. 
I  would  have  been  less  sensible  than  you.  It 
was  an  awful  experience,  man;  I  cannot  tell 
how  you  tholed  it  at  all." 

"Well,  I  didn't  thole  it,  Jamie.  I  just 
broke  down  under  it,  and  God  Almighty  and 
208 


THE   RIGHTING   OF  A  WRONG 

my  mother  and  sister  had  to  carry  me  through 
the  ill  time;  but  all  is  right  now.  I  shall 
have  the  boat  I  was  promised,  and  at  the  long 
last  be  Captain  Binnie  of  the  Red-White  Fleet. 
And  what  for  should  n't  you  take  a  berth  with 
me?  I  shall  have  the  choosing  of  my  officers, 
and  we  will  strike  hands  together,  if  you  like 
it,  and  you  shall  be  my  second  mate  to  start 
with." 

"I  should  like  nothing  better  than  to  sail 
with  you  and  under  you,  Andrew.  I  could  n't 
find  a  captain  more  to  my  liking." 

"  Nor  I,  a  better  second  mate.  We  both  know 
our  business,  and  we  shall  manage  it  cleverly 
and  brotherly." 

So  Jamie's  future  was  settled  before  the 
men  reached  Pittendurie,  and  the  new  arrange 
ment  well  talked  over,  and  Andrew  and  his 
proposed  brother-in-law  were  finger  and  thumb 
about  it.  This  was  a  good  thing  for  Andrew, 
for  his  secretive,  self-contained  disposition  was 
his  weak  point,  and  had  been  the  cause  of  all 
his  sorrow  and  loss  of  time  and  suffering. 

They  had  written  a  letter  in  New  York  and 
posted  it  the  day  they  left,  advising  Janet  and 
Christina  of  the  happy  home-coming;  but  both 
men  forgot,  or  else  did  not  know,  that  the 
letter  came  on  the  very  same  ship  with  them 
selves,  and  might  therefore  or  might  not  reach 
U  209 


A  KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

home  before  them.  It  depended  entirely  on 
the  postal  authority  in  Pittendurie.  If  she 
happened  to  be  in  a  mood  to  sort  the  letters  as 
soon  as  they  arrived,  and  then  if  she  happened 
to  see  any  one  passing  who  could  carry  a  letter 
to  Janet  Binnie,  the  chances  were  that  Janet 
would  receive  the  intelligence  of  her  son's 
arrival  in  time  to  make  some  preparation  for  it. 

As  it  happened,  these  favourable  circum 
stances  occurred,  and  about  four  o'clock  one 
afternoon,  as  Janet  was  returning  up  the  cliff 
from  Isobel  Murray's,  she  met  little  Tim 
Galloway  with  the  letter  in  his  hand. 

"It  is  from  America,"  said  the  laddie,  "and 
my  mother  told  me  to  hurry  myself  with  it. 
Maybe  there  is  folk  coming  after  it." 

"I  '11  give  you  a  bawbee  for  the  sense  of 
your  words,  Tim,"  answered  Janet;  and  she 
hastened  herself  and  flung  the  letter  into 
Christina's  lap,  saying:  — 

"Open  it,  lassie,  it  will  be  full  of  good 
news.  I  should  n't  wonder  if  both  lads  were 
on  their  way  home  again." 

"Mother,  Mother,  they  are  home;  they  will 
be  here  anon,  they  will  be  here  this  very 
night.  Oh,  Mother,  I  must  put  on  my  best 
gown  and  my  gold  ear-rings  and  brush  my 
hair,  and  you  '11  be  setting  forward  the  tea 
and  making  a  white  pudding;  for  Jamie,  you 
210 


THE   RIGHTING  OF  A  WRONG 

know,  was  always  saying  none  but  you  could 
mix  the  meal  and  salt  and  pepper,  and  toast  it 
as  it  should  be  done." 

"  I  shall  look  after  the  men's  eating,  Chris 
tina,  and  you  make  yourself  as  braw  as  you 
like  to.  Jamie  has  been  long  away,  and  he 
must  have  a  full  welcome  home  again." 

They  were  both  as  excited  as  two  happy  chil 
dren  ;  perhaps  Janet  was  most  evidently  so,  for 
she  had  never  lost  her  child-heart,  and  every 
thing  pleasant  that  happened  was  a  joy  and  a 
wonder  to  her.  She  took  out  her  best  damask 
table-cloth,  and  opened  her  bride  chest  for  the 
real  china  kept  there  so  carefully;  and  she 
made  the  white  pudding  with  her  own  hands, 
and  ran  down  the  cliff  for  fresh  fish  and  the 
lamb  chops  which  were  Andrew's  special  luxury. 
And  Christina  made  the  curds  and  cream,  and 
swept  the  hearth,  and  set  the  door  wide  open 
for  the  home-comers. 

And  as  good  fortune  comes  where  it  is 
looked  for,  Andrew  and  Jamie  entered  the 
cottage  just  as  everything  was  ready  for  them. 
There  was  no  waiting,  no  cooled  welcome,  no 
spoiled  dainties,  no  disappointment  of  any 
kind.  Life  was  taken  up  where  it  had  been 
most  pleasantly  dropped;  all  the  interval  of 
doubt  and  suffering  was  put  out  of  remem 
brance,  and  when  the  joyful  meal  had  been 

211 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

eaten,  as  Janet  washed  her  cups  and  saucers 
and  tidied  her  house,  they  talked  of  the  happy 
future  before  them. 

"And  I  '11  tell  you  what,  bairnies,"  said  the 
dear  old  woman  as  she  stood  folding  her  real 
china  in  the  tissue  paper  devoted  to  that  pur 
pose,  "I'll  tell  you  what,  bairnies,  good  will 
asks  for  good  deeds,  and  I  '11  show  my  good 
will  by  giving  Christina  the  acre  of  land  next 
my  own.  If  Jamie  is  to  go  with  you,  Andrew, 
and  your  home  is  to  be  with  me,  lad  —  " 

"Where  else  would  it  be,  Mother?" 

"Well,  then,  where  else  need  Jamie's  home 
be  but  in  Pittendurie?  I  '11  give  the  land  for 
his  house,  and  what  will  you  do,  Andrew? 
Speak  for  your  best  self,  my  lad." 

"  I  will  give  my  sister  Christina  one  hundred 
gold  sovereigns  and  the  silk  wedding-gown  I 
promised  her." 

"  Oh,  Andrew,  my  dear  brother,  how  will  I 
ever  thank  you  as  I  ought  to  ?  " 

"  I  owe  you  more,  Christina,  than  I  can 
count." 

"No,  no,  Andrew,"  said  Janet.  "What  has 
Christina  done  that  siller  can  pay  for?  You 
can't  buy  love  with  money,  and  gold  isn't  in 
exchange  for  it.  Your  gift  is  a  good-will  gift. 
It  isn't  a  paid  debt,  God  be  thanked!" 

The  very  next  day  the  little  family  went 
212 


THE   RIGHTING   OF  A  WRONG 

into  Largo,  and  the  acre  was  legally  trans 
ferred,  and  Jamie  made  arrangements  for  the 
building  of  his  cottage.  But  the  marriage  did 
not  wait  on  the  building;  it  was  delayed  no 
longer  than  was  necessary  for  the  making  of 
the  silk  wedding-gown.  This  office  Griselda 
Kilgour  undertook  with  much  readiness  and  an 
entire  oblivion  of  Janet's  unadvised  allusions 
to  her  age.  And  more  than  this,  Griselda 
dressed  the  bride  with  her  own  hands,  adding 
to  her  costume  a  bonnet  of  white  tulle  and 
orange  blossoms  that  was  the  admiration  of 
the  whole  village,  and  which  certainly  had  a 
bewitching  effect  above  Christina's  waving 
black  hair,  and  shining  eyes,  and  marvellous 
colouring. 

And,  as  Janet  desired,  the  wedding  was  a 
holiday  for  the  whole  of  Pittendurie.  Old 
and  young  were  bid  to  it,  and  for  two  days  the 
dance,  the  feast,  and  the  song  went  gayly  on ; 
and  for  two  days  not  a  single  fishing-boat  left 
the  little  port  of  Pittendurie.  Then  the  men 
went  out  to  sea  again,  and  the  women  paid 
their  bride  visits,  and  the  children  finished  all 
the  dainties  that  were  else  like  to  be  wasted, 
and  life  gradually  settled  back  into  its  usual 
grooves. 

But  though  Jamie  went  to  the  fishing,  pend 
ing  Andrew's  appointment  to  his  steamboat, 
213 


A  KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

Janet  and  Christina  had  a  never-ceasing  interest 
in  the  building  and  plenishing  of  Christina's 
new  home.  It  was  not  fashionable,  nor  indeed 
hardly  permissible,  for  any  one  to  build  a 
house  on  a  plan  grander  than  the  traditional 
fisher  cottage;  but  Christina's,  though  no 
larger  than  her  neighbours',  had  the  modern 
convenience  of  many  little  closets  and  presses, 
and  these  Janet  filled  with  homespun  napery, 
linseys,  and  patchwork,  so  that  never  a  young 
lass  in  Pittendurie  began  life  under  such  full 
and  happy  circumstances. 

In  the  fall  of  the  year  the  new  fire  was  lit  on 
the  new  hearth,  and  Christina  moved  into  her 
own  home.  It  was  only  divided  from  her 
mother's  by  a  strip  of  garden  and  a  low  fence, 
and  the  two  women  could  stand  in  their  open 
doors  and  talk  to  each  other.  And  during  the 
summer  all  had  gone  well.  Jamie  had  been 
fortunate  and  made  money,  and  Andrew  had 
perfected  all  his  arrangements,  so  that  one 
morning  in  early  September,  the  whole  village 
saw  "  The  Falcon  "  come  to  anchor  in  the  bay, 
and  Captain  Binnie,  in  his  gold-buttoned  coat 
and  gold-banded  cap,  take  his  place  on  her 
bridge,  with  Jamie,  less  conspicuously  attired, 
attending  him. 

It  was  a  proud  day  for  Janet  and  Christina; 
though   Janet,   guided  by  some  fine    instinct, 
214 


THE   RIGHTING   OF   A  WRONG 

remained  in  her  own  home,  and  made  no  after 
noon  calls.  "  I  don't  want  to  force  folk  to  say 
either  kind  or  unkind  things  to  me,"  she  said 
to  her  daughter.  "  You  know,  Christina,  it  is 
a  deal  harder  to  rejoice  with  them  that  rejoice 
than  to  weep  with  them  that  weep.  Sabrina 
Roy,  as  soon  as  she  got  her  eyes  on  Andrew  in 
his  trimmings,  perfectly  changed  colours  with 
envy;  and  we  have  been  a  speculation  to  far 
and  near,  more  than  one  body  saying  we  were 
going  fairly  to  the  mischief  with  out  extrava 
gance.  They  thought  poverty  had  us  under 
her  black  thumb,  and  they  did  not  think  of  the 
hand  of  God,  which  was  our  surety." 

However,  that  afternoon  Janet  had  a  great 
many  callers,  and  not  a  few  came  up  the  cliff 
out  of  real  kindness;  for,  doubt  as  we  will, 
there  is  a  constant  inflowing  of  God  into 
human  affairs.  And  Janet,  in  her  heart,  did 
not  doubt  her  neighbours  readily;  she  took  the 
homage  rendered  in  a  very  pleased  and  gracious 
manner,  and  she  made  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  little 
feast  for  her  company,  and  the  clash  and  clat 
ter  in  the  Binnie  cottage  that  afternoon  was 
exceedingly  full  of  good  wishes  and  compli 
ments.  Indeed,  as  Janet  reviewed  them  after 
wards,  they  provoked  from  her  a  broad  smile, 
and  she  said  with  a  touch  of  good-natured 
criticism :  — 

215 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"If  we  could  make  compliments  into  silk 
gowns,  Christina,  you  and  I  would  be  bonnily 
clad  for  the  rest  of  our  lives.  Nobody  said  a 
nattering  word  but  poor  Bella  McLean,  and 
she  has  been  soured  and  sore  kept  down  in  the 
world  by  a  ne'er-do-weel  of  a  husband." 

"She  should  try  and  guide  him  better,"  said 
Christina.  "  If  he  was  my  man,  I  would  put 
him  through  his  facings." 

"  Toots,  Christina.  You  are  over  young  in 
the  marriage  state  to  offer  opinions  about  men 
folk.  As  far  as  I  can  see,  every  woman  can 
guide  a  bad  husband  but  the  poor  soul  that 
has  the  ill-luck  to  have  one.  Open  the  Book 
now,  and  let  us  thank  God  for  the  good  day  He 
has  given  us." 


216 


CHAPTER   X 

"TAKE  ME  IN  TO   DIE!" 

AFTER  this,  the  pleasant  months  went  by  with 
nothing  but  Andrew's  and  Jamie's  visits  to  mark 
them,  and,  every  now  and  then,  a  sough  of 
sorrow  from  the  big  house  of  Braelands.  And 
now  that  her  own  girl  was  so  happily  settled, 
Janet  began  to  have  a  longing  anxiety  about 
poor  Sophy.  She  heard  all  kinds  of  evil  reports 
concerning  the  relations  between  her  and  her 
husband,  and  twice  during  the  winter  there  was 
a  rumour,  hardly  hushed  up,  of  a  separation 
between  them. 

Isobel  Murray,  to  whom  at  first  Sophy  turned 
in  her  sorrow,  had  not  responded  to  any  later 
confidences.  "  My  man  told  me  to  neither 
listen  nor  speak  against  Archie  Braelands,"  she 
said  to  Janet.  "  We  have  our  own  boat  to 
guide,  and  Sophy  cannot  be  a  friend  to  us; 
while  it  is  very  sure  Braelands  can  be  an  enemy 
beyond  our  '  don't  care.'  Six  little  lads  and 
lassies  made  folk  mind  their  own  business.  And 
I  'm  no  very  sure  but  what  Sophy's  troubles 
217 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

are  Sophy's  own  making.  At  any  rate,  she 
is  n't  faultless ;  you  be  to  have  both  flint  and 
stone  to  strike  fire." 

"  I  '11  not  hear  you  say  the  like  of  that,  Isobel. 
Sophy  may  be  misguided  and  unwise,  but  there 
is  not  a  wrong  thought  in  her  heart.  The  bit 
vanity  of  the  young  thing  was  her  only  fault,  and 
I  'm  thinking  she  has  paid  sorely  for  it." 

All  winter  such  vague  and  miserable  bits  of 
gossip  found  their  way  into  the  fishing-village, 
and  one  morning  in  the  following  spring,  Janet 
met  a  young  girl  who  frequently  went  to  Brae- 
lands  House  with  fresh  fish.  She  was  then  on 
her  way  home  from  such  an  errand,  and  Janet 
fancied  there  was  a  look  of  unusual  emotion  on 
her  broad,  stolid  face. 

"  Maggie- Ann,"  she  said,  stopping  her,  "  where 
have  you  been  this  morning?  " 

"  Up  to  Braelands." 

"  And  what  did  you  see  or  hear  tell  of?  " 

"I  saw  nothing;  but  I  heard  more  than  I 
liked  to  hear." 

"  About  Mistress  Braelands?  You  know, 
Maggie-Ann,  that  she  is  my  own  flesh  and  blood, 
and  I  be  to  feel  her  wrongs  my  wrongs." 

"  Surely,  Janet.     There  had  been  a  big  stir, 

and   you    could    feel   it  in  the  very  air  of  the 

house.     The  servants   were  feared  to  speak  or 

to  step,  and  when  the  door  opened,  the  sound 

218 


-TAKE   ME   IN   TO   DIE" 

of  angry  words  and  of  somebody  crying  was 
plain  to  be  heard.  Jean  Craigie,  the  cook,  told 
me  it  was  about  the  Dower  House.  The  mis 
tress  wants  to  get  away  from  her  mother-in-law, 
and  she  had  been  begging  her  husband  to  go 
and  live  in  the  Dower  House  with  her,  since 
Madame  would  not  leave  them  their  own  place." 

"She  is  right,"  answered  Janet  boldly.  "I 
would  n't  live  with  that  fine  old  sinner  myself, 
and  I  think  there  are  few  women  in  Fife  I 
could  n't  talk  back  to  if  I  wanted.  Sophy 
ought  never  to  have  bided  with  her  for  a  day. 
They  have  no  business  under  the  same  roof. 
A  baby  and  a  popish  inquisitor  would  be  as 
well  matched." 

It  had,  indeed,  come  at  last  to  Sophy's  positive 
refusal  to  live  longer  with  her  mother-in-law. 
In  a  hundred  ways  the  young  wife  felt  her 
inability  to  cope  with  a  woman  so  wise  and  so 
wicked,  and  she  had  finally  begun  to  entreat 
Archie  to  take  her  away  from  Braelands.  The 
man  was  in  a  strait  which  could  end  only  in 
anger.  He  was  completely  under  his  mother's 
influence,  while  Sophy's  influence  had  been 
gradually  weakened  by  Madame's  innuendos  and 
complaints,  her  pity  for  Archie,  and  her  tattle 
of  visitors.  These  things  were  bad  enough ;  but 
Sophy's  worst  failures  came  from  within  herself. 
She  had  been  snubbed  and  laughed  at,  scolded 
219 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

and  corrected,  until  she  had  lost  all  spontaneity, 
and  all  the  grace  and  charm  of  her  natural 
manner.  This  condition  would  not  have  been 
so  readily  brought  about,  had  she  retained  her 
health  and  her  flower-like  beauty.  But  after  the 
birth  of  her  child  she  faded  slowly  away.  She 
had  not  the  strength  for  a  constant,  never-rest 
ing  assertion  of  her  rights,  and  nothing  less 
would  have  availed  her ;  nor  had  she  the  metal 
brightness  to  expose  or  circumvent  the  false 
and  foolish  positions  in  which  Madame  habit 
ually  placed  her. 

Little  by  little,  the  facts  of  the  unhappy  case 
leaked  out,  and  were  warmly  commented  on  by 
the  fisher-families  with  whom  Sophy  was  con 
nected  either  by  blood  or  friendship.  Her 
father's  shipmates  were  many  of  them  living, 
and  she  had  cousins  of  every  degree  among  the 
nets  —  men  and  women  who  did  not  forget  the 
motherless,  fatherless  lassie  who  had  played 
with  their  own  children.  These  people  made 
Archie  feel  their  antagonism.  They  would 
neither  take  his  money,  nor  give  him  their  votes, 
nor  lift  their  bonnets  to  his  greeting.  And 
though  such  honest,  primitive  feelings  were 
proper  enough,  they  did  not  help  Sophy.  On 
the  contrary,  they  strengthened  Madame's  con 
tinual  assertion  that  her  son's  marriage  had 
ruined  his  public  career  and  political  prospects. 

220 


-TAKE   ME   IN   TO   DIE" 

Still  there  is  nothing  more  wonderful  than  the 
tugs  and  twists  the  marriage-tie  will  bear. 
There  were  still  days  in  which  Archie  —  either 
from  love,  or  pity,  or  contradiction,  or  perhaps 
from  a  sense  of  simple  justice  —  took  his  wife's 
part  so  positively  that  Madame  must  have  been 
discouraged  if  she  had  been  a  less  understand 
ing  woman.  As  it  was,  she  only  smiled  at  such 
fitful  affection,  and  laid  her  plans  a  little  more 
carefully.  And  as  the  devil  strengthens  the 
hands  of  those  who  do  his  work,  Madame  re 
ceived  a  potent  reinforcement  in  the  return 
home  of  her  nearest  neighbour,  Miss  Marion 
Glamis.  As  a  girl,  she  had  been  Archie's 
friend  and  playmate ;  then  she  had  been  sent 
to  Paris  for  her  education,  and  afterwards 
travelled  extensively  with  her  father,  who  was 
a  man  of  very  comfortable  fortune.  Marion 
herself  had  a  private  income,  and  Madame  had 
been  accustomed  to  believe  that  when  Archie 
married,  he  would  choose  Marion  Glamis  for 
his  wife. 

She  was  a  tall,  high-coloured,  rather  mannish- 
looking  girl,  handsome  in  form,  witty  in  speech, 
and  disposed  towards  field  sports  of  every  kind. 
She  disliked  Sophy  on  sight,  and  Madame  per 
ceived  it,  and  easily  worked  on  the  girl's  worst 
feelings.  Besides,  Marion  had  no  lover  at  the 
time,  and  she  had  come  home  with  the  idea  of 

221 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

Archie  Braelands  filling  such  imagination  as  she 
possessed.  To  find  herself  supplanted  by  a 
girl  of  low  birth,  "  without  a  single  advantage," 
as  she  said  frankly  to  Archie's  mother,  provoked 
and  humiliated  her.  "  She  has  not  beauty,  nor 
grace,  nor  wit,  nor  money,  nor  any  earthly  thing 
to  recommend  her  to  Archie's  notice.  Was  the 
man  under  a  spell?"  she  asked. 

"  Indeed  she  had  a  kind  of  beauty  and  grace 
when  Archie  married  her,"  answered  Madame; 
"  I  must  admit  that.  But  bringing  her  to  Brae- 
lands  was  like  transplanting  a  hedge  flower  into 
a  hot-house.  She  has  just  wilted  ever  since." 

"  Has  she  been  noticed  by  Archie's  friends 
at  all?" 

"  I  have  taken  good  care  she  did  not  see 
much  of  Archie's  friends,  and  her  ill  health  has 
been  a  splendid  excuse  for  her  seclusion.  Yet 
it  was  strange  how  much  the  few  people  she  met 
admired  her.  Lady  Blair  goes  into  italics  every 
time  she  comes  here  about  '  The  Beauty/  and 
the  Bells,  and  Curries,  and  Cupars,  have  done 
their  best  to  get  her  to  visit  them.  I  knew  better 
than  permit  such  folly.  She  would  have  told 
all  sorts  of  things,  and  raised  the  country  side 
against  me;  though,  really,  no  one  will  ever 
know  what  I  have  gone  through  in  my  efforts 
to  *  lick  the  cub  into  shape ! ' 

Marion  laughed,  and,  Archie  coming  in  at  that 

222 


"TAKE   ME   IN  TO   DIE" 

moment,  she  launched  all  her  high  spirits  and 
catches  and  witticisms  at  him.  Her  brilliancy 
and  colour  and  style  were  very  effective,  and 
there  was  a  sentimental  remembrance  for  the 
foundation  of  a  flirtation  which  Marion  very 
cleverly  took  advantage  of,  and  which  Archie 
was  not  inclined  to  deny.  His  life  was  monoton 
ous,  he  was  ennuye,  and  this  bold,  bright  incarna 
tion,  with  her  half  disguised  admiration  for 
himself,  was  an  irresistible  new  interest. 

So  their  intimacy  soon  became  frequent  and 
friendly.  There  were  horseback  rides  together 
in  the  mornings,  sails  in  the  afternoons,  and 
duets  on  the  piano  in  the  evenings.  Then  her 
Parisian  toilets  made  poor  Sophy's  Largo  dresses 
look  funnily  dowdy,  and  her  sharp  questions 
and  affected  ignorances  of  Sophy's  meanings 
and  answers  were  cleverly  aided  by  Madame's 
cold  silences,  lifted  brows,  and  hopeless  accept 
ance  of  such  an  outside  barbarian.  Long  before 
a  dinner  was  over,  Sophy  had  been  driven  into 
silence,  and  it  was  perhaps  impossible  for  her  to 
avoid  an  air  of  offence  and  injury,  so  that 
Marion  had  the  charming  in  her  own  hands. 
After  dinner,  Admiral  Glamis  and  Madame 
usually  played  a  game  of  chess,  and  Archie 
sang  or  played  duets  with  Marion,  while  Sophy, 
sitting  sadly  unnoticed  and  unemployed,  watched 
her  husband  give  to  his  companion  such  smiles 
223 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

and  careful  attentions  as  he  had  used  to  win  her 
own  heart. 

What  regrets  and  fears  and  feelings  of  wrong 
troubled  her  heart  during  these  unhappy  sum 
mer  evenings,  God  only  knew.  Sometimes 
her  presence  seemed  to  be  intolerable  to 
Madame,  who  would  turn  to  her  and  say  sharply : 
"  You  are  worn  out,  Sophy,  and  it  is  hardly 
fair  to  impose  your  weariness  and  low  spirits  on 
us.  Had  you  not  better  go  to  your  room?" 
Occasionally,  Sophy  refused  to  notice  this 
covert  order,  and  she  fancied  that  there  was 
generally  a  passing  expression  of  pleasure  on 
her  husband's  face  at  her  rebellion.  More  fre 
quently,  she  was  glad  to  escape  the  slow,  long 
torture,  and  she  would  rise,  and  go  through  the 
formality  of  shaking  hands  with  each  person 
and  bidding  each  "good-night"  ere  she  left  the 
room.  "  Fisher  manners,"  Madame  would 
whisper  impatiently  to  Marion.  "  I  cannot  teach 
her  a  decent  effacement  of  her  personality." 
For  this  little  ceremony  always  ended  in 
Archie's  escorting  her  upstairs,  and  so  far  he 
had  never  neglected  this  formal  deference  due 
his  wife.  Sometimes  too  he  came  back  from 
the  duty  very  distrait  and  unhappy-looking,  a 
circumstance  always  noted  by  Madame  with 
anger  and  scorn. 

To  such  a  situation,  any  tragedy  was  a  possible 
224 


"TAKE   ME   IN   TO   DIE" 

culmination,  and  day  by  day  there  was  a  more 
reckless  abuse  of  its  opportunities.  Madame, 
when  alone  with  Sophy,  did  not  now  scruple 
to  regret  openly  the  fact  that  Marion  was  not 
her  daughter-in-law,  and  if  Marion  happened  to 
be  present,  she  gave  way  to  her  disappointment 
in  such  ejaculations  as  — 

"  Oh!  Marion  Glamis, why  did  you  stay  away 
so  long?  Why  did  you  not  come  home  before 
Archie's  life  was  ruined?"  And  the  girl  would 
sigh  and  answer:  "  Is  not  my  life  ruined  also? 
Could  any  one  have  imagined  Archie  Braelands 
would  have  an  attack  of  insanity?"  Then 
Sophy,  feeling  her  impotence  between  the 
tongues  of  her  two  enemies,  would  rise  and  go 
away,  more  or  less  angrily  or  sadly,  followed 
through  the  hall  and  half-way  upstairs  by  the 
snickering,  confidential  laughter  of  their  common 
ridicule. 

At  the  latter  end  of  June,  Admiral  Glamis 
proposed  an  expedition  to  Norway.  They  were 
to  hire  a  yacht,  select  a  merry  party,  and  spend 
July  and  August  sailing  and  fishing  in  the  cool 
fiords  of  that  picturesque  land.  Archie  took 
charge  of  all  the  arrangements.  He  secured  a 
yacht,  and  posted  a  notice  in  the  Public  House 
of  Pittendurie  for  men  to  sail  her.  He  had  no 
doubt  of  any  number  of  applications ;  for  the 
work  was  light  and  pleasant,  and  much  better 
15  225 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

paid  than  any  fishing-job.  But  not  a  man  pre 
sented  himself,  and  not  even  when  Archie  sought 
out  the  best  sailors  and  those  accustomed  to 
the  cross  seas  between  Scotland  and  Norway, 
could  he  induce  any  one  to  take  charge  of  the 
yacht  and  man  her.  The  Admiral's  astonish 
ment  at  Archie's  lack  of  influence  among  his 
own  neighbours  and  tenants  was  not  very  pleas 
ant  to  bear,  and  Marion  openly  said :  - 

"  They  are  making  cause  with  your  wife, 
Archie,  against  you.  They  imagine  themselves 
very  loyal  and  unselfish.  Fools !  a  few  extra 
sovereigns  would  be  much  better." 

"  But  why  make  cause  for  my  wife  against 
me,  Marion  ?  "  asked  Archie. 

"You  know  best;  ask  Madame,  she  is  my 
authority,"  and  she  shrugged  her  shoulders 
and  went  laughing  from  his  side. 

Nothing  in  all  his  married  life  had  so 
annoyed  Archie  as  this  dour  displeasure  of 
men  who  had  always  before  been  glad  to  serve 
him.  Madame  was  indignant,  sorrowful,  anx 
ious,  everything  else  that  could  further  irritate 
her  angry  son;  and  poor  Sophy  might  well  have 
prayed  in  those  days  "deliver  me  from  my 
friends !  "  But  at  length  the  yacht  was  ready 
for  sea,  and  Archie  ran  upstairs  in  the  middle 
of  one  hot  afternoon  to  bid  his  wife  "good 
bye  ! " 

226 


"TAKE    ME   IN   TO   DIE" 

She  was  resting  on  her  bed,  and  he  never 
forgot  the  eager,  wistful,  longing  look  of  the 
wasted  white  face  on  the  white  pillow.  He 
told  her  to  take  care  of  herself  for  his  sake. 
He  told  her  not  to  let  any  one  worry  or  annoy 
her.  He  kissed  her  tenderly,  and  then,  after 
he  had  closed  the  door,  he  came  back  and 
kissed  her  again;  and  there  were  days  com 
ing  in  which  it  was  some  comfort  to  him  to 
remember  this  trifling  kindness. 

"You  will  not  forget  me,  Archie?"  she 
asked  sadly. 

"I  will  not,  sweetheart,"  he  answered. 

"  You  will  write  me  a  letter  when  you  can, 
dear?" 

"  I  will  be  sure  to  do  so. " 

"  You  —  you  —  you  will  love  me  best  of  all  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  help  it  ?  Don't  cry  now.  Send 
me  away  with  a  smile." 

"Yes,  dear.  I  will  try  and  be  happy,  and 
try  and  get  well." 

"  I  am  sorry  you  cannot  go  with  us,  Sophy." 

"I  am  sorry  too,  Archie;  but  I  could  not 
bear  the  knocking  about,  and  the  noise  and 
bustle,  and  the  merry-making.  I  should  only 
spoil  your  pleasure.  I  wouldn't  like  to  do 
that,  dear.  Good-bye,  and  good-bye." 

For  a  few  minutes  he  was  very  miserable. 
A  sense  of  shame  came  over  him.  He  felt 
227 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

that  he  was  unkind,  selfish,  and  quite  unworthy 
of  the  tender  love  given  him.  But  in  half  an 
hour  he  was  out  at  sea,  Marion  was  at  his  side, 
the  Admiral  was  consulting  him  about  the  cool 
ing  of  the  dinner  wines,  the  skipper  was  prom 
ising  them  a  lively  sail  with  a  fair  wind  —  and 
the  white,  loving  face  went  out  of  his  memory, 
and  out  of  his  consideration. 

Yet  while  he  was  sipping  wine  and  singing 
songs  with  Marion  Glamis,  and  looking  with 
admiration  into  her  rosy,  glowing  face,  Sophy 
was  suffering  all  the  slings  and  arrows  of 
Madame' s  outrageous  hatred.  She  complained 
all  dinner-time,  even  while  the  servants  were 
present,  of  the  deprivation  she  had  to  endure 
for  Sophy's  sake.  The  fact  was  she  had  not 
been  invited  to  join  the  yachting-party,  two 
very  desirable  ladies  having  refused  to  spend 
two  months  in  her  society.  But  she  ignored 
this  fact,  and  insisted  on  the  fiction  that  she 
had  been  compelled  to  remain  at  home  to  look 
after  Sophy. 

"  I  wish  you  had  gone  !  Oh,  I  wish  you  had 
gone  and  left  me  in  peace !  "  cried  the  poor 
wife  at  last  in  a  passion.  "  I  could  have  been 
happy  if  I  had  been  left  to  myself." 

"  And  your  low  relations !  You  have  made 
mischief  enough  with  them  for  Archie,  poor 
fellow!  Don't  tell  me  that  you  make  no  com- 
228 


"TAKE   ME   IN   TO   DIE" 

plaints.  The  shameful  behaviour  of  those  vulgar 
fishermen,  refusing  to  sail  a  yacht  for  Braelands, 
is  proof  positive  of  your  underhand  ways." 

"  My  relations  are  not  low.  They  would 
scorn  to  do  the  low,  cruel,  wicked  things  some 
people  who  call  themselves  '  high-born  '  do  all 
the  time.  But  low  or  high,  they  are  mine,  and 
while  Archie  is  away,  I  intend  to  see  them  as 
often  as  I  can." 

This  little  bit  of  rebellion  was  the  one  thing 
in  which  she  could  show  herself  Mistress  of 
Braelands;  for  she  knew  that  she  could  rely 
on  Thomas  to  bring  the  carriage  to  her  order. 
So  the  next  morning  she  went  very  early  to 
call  on  Griselda  Kilgour.  Griselda  had  not 
seen  her  niece  for  some  time,  and  she  was 
shocked  at  the  change  in  her  appearance; 
indeed,  she  could  hardly  refrain  the  exclama 
tions  of  pity  and  fear  that  flew  to  her  lips. 

"Send  the  carriage  to  the  Queens  Arms/1 
she  said,  "and  stay  with  me  all  day,  Sophy,  my 
dear." 

"Very  well,  Aunt,  I  am  tired  enough.  Let 
me  lie  down  on  the  sofa,  and  take  off  my  bon 
net  and  cloak.  My  clothes  are  just  a  weight 
and  a  weariness." 

"Are  n't  you  well,  dearie?  " 

"I  must  be  sick  someway,  I  think.  I  can't 
sleep,  and  I  can't  eat;  and  I  am  that  weak  I 
229 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

haven't  the  strength  or  spirit  to  say  a  word 
back  to  Madame,  however  ill  her  words  are  to 
me." 

"  I  heard  that  Braelands  had  gone  away?  " 

"Aye,  for  two  months." 

"With  the  Glamis  crowd?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  go  too  ?  " 

"I  could  n't  thole  the  sail,  nor  the  company." 

"Do  you  like  Miss  Glamis?" 

"I'm  feared  I  hate  her.  Oh!  Aunt,  she 
makes  love  to  Archie  before  my  very  eyes; 
and  Madame  tells  me  morning,  noon,  and  night, 
that  she  was  his  first  love  and  ought  to  have 
married  him." 

"I  wouldn't  stand  the  like  of  that.  But 
Archie  is  not  changed  to  you,  dearie  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  say  he  is ;  but  what  man  can  be 
aye  with  a  fond  woman,  bright  and  bonnie,  and 
not  think  of  her  as  he  should  n't  think?  I  'm 
not  blaming  Archie  much.  It  is  Madame  and 
Miss  Glamis,  and  above  all  my  own  shortcom 
ings.  I  can't  talk,  I  can't  dress,  I  can't  walk, 
nor  in  any  way  act,  as  that  set  of  women  do. 
I  am  like  a  fish  out  of  its  element.  It  is 
bonnie  enough  in  the  water;  but  it  only  flops 
and  dies  if  you  take  it  out  of  the  water  and  put 
it  on  the  dry  land.  I  wish  I  had  never  seen 
Archie  Braelands!  If  I  hadn't,  I  would  have 
230 


"TAKE    ME   IN   TO    DIE" 

married  Andrew  Binnie,  and  been  happy  and 
well  enough." 

"  You  were  hearing  that  he  is  now  Captain 
Binnie  of  the  Red- White  Fleet?" 

"Aye,  I  heard.  Madame  was  reading  about 
it  in  the  Largo  paper.  Andrew  is  a  good  man, 
Aunt.  I  am  glad  of  his  good  luck. " 

"  Christina  is  well  married  too.  You  were 
hearing  of  that  ?  " 

"  Aye;  but  tell  me  all  about  it." 

So  Griselda  entered  into  a  narration  which 
lasted  until  Sophy  slipped  into  a  deep  slumber. 
And  whether  it  was  simply  the  slumber  of 
utter  exhaustion,  or  whether  it  was  the  sweet 
oblivion  which  results  from  a  sense  of  peace 
long  denied,  or  perhaps  the  union  of  both 
these  conditions,  the  result  was  that  she  lay 
wrapped  in  an  almost  lethargic  sleep  for  many 
hours.  Twice  Thomas  came  with  the  carriage, 
and  twice  Griselda  sent  him  away.  And  the 
man  shook  his  head  sadly  and  said:  — 

"Let  her  alone;  I  wouldn't  be  the  one  to 
wake  her  up  for  all  my  place  is  worth.  It 
may  be  a  health  sleep." 

"Aye,  it  may  be,"  answered  Griselda,  "but 
I  have  heard  old  folk  say  that  such  black,  deep 
sleep  is  sent  to  fit  the  soul  for  some  calamity 
lying  in  wait  for  it.  It  won't  be  lucky  to 
wake  her  anyway." 

231 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"No,  and  I  am  thinking  nothing  worse  can 
come  to  the  little  mistress  than  the  sorrow  she 
is  tholing  now.  I  '11  be  back  in  an  hour,  Miss 
Kilgour." 

Thus  it  happened  that  it  was  late  in  the 
afternoon  when  Sophy  returned  to  her  home, 
and  her  rest  had  so  refreshed  her  that  she  was 
more  than  usually  able  to  hold  her  own  with 
Madame.  Many  unpardonable  words  were  said 
on  both  sides;  and  the  quarrel,  thus  early 
inaugurated,  raged  from  day  to  day,  either  in 
open  recrimination,  or  in  a  still  more  distress 
ing  interference  with  all  Sophy's  personal 
desires  and  occupations.  The  servants  were, 
in  a  measure,  compelled  to  take  part  in  the 
unnatural  quarrel ;  and  before  three  weeks 
were  over,  Sophy's  condition  was  one  of  such 
abnormal  excitement  that  she  was  hardly  any 
longer  accountable  for  her  actions.  The  final 
blow  was  struck  while  she  was  so  little  able 
to  bear  it.  A  letter  from  Archie,  posted  in 
Christiania  and  addressed  to  his  wife,  came  one 
morning.  As  Sophy  was  never  able  to  come 
down  to  breakfast,  Madame  at  once  appropri 
ated  the  letter.  When  she  had  read  it  and  fin 
ished  her  breakfast,  she  went  to  Sophy's  room. 

"I  have  had  a  letter  from  Archie,"  she  said. 

"  Was  there  none  for  me?  " 

"No;  but  I  thought  you  might  like  to  know 
232 


"TAKE   ME   IN   TO   DIE" 

that  Archie  says  he  never  was  so  happy  in  all 
his  life.  The  Admiral,  and  Marion,  and  he,  are 
in  Christ iania  for  a  week  or  two,  and  enjoying 
themselves  every  minute  of  the  time.  Dear 
Marion  !  She  knows  how  to  make  Archie  happy. 
It  is  a  great  shame  I  could  not  be  with  them." 

"  Is  there  any  message  for  me  ?  " 

"  Not  a  word.  I  suppose  Archie  knew  I 
should  tell  you  all  that  it  was  necessary  for 
you  to  know." 

"Please  go  away;  I  want  to  go  to  sleep." 

"You  want  to  cry.  You  do  nothing  but 
sleep  and  cry,  and  cry  and  sleep;  no  wonder 
you  have  tired  Archie's  patience  out." 

"  I  have  not  tired  Archie  out.  Oh,  I  wish 
he  was  here!  I  wish  he  was  here!" 

"He  will  be  back  in  five  or  six  weeks,  unless 
Marion  persuades  him  to  go  to  the  Mediter 
ranean —  and,  as  the  Admiral  is  so  fond  of  the 
sea,  that  move  is  not  unlikely." 

"  Please  go  away." 

"  I  shall  be  only  too  happy  to  do  so." 

Now  it  happened  that  the  footman,  in  taking 
in  the  mail,  had  noticed  the  letter  for  Sophy, 
and  commented  on  it  in  the  kitchen ;  and  every 
servant  in  the  house  had  been  glad  for  the  joy 
it  would  bring  to  the  lonely,  sick  woman.  So 
there  was  nothing  remarkable  in  her  maid  say 
ing,  as  she  dressed  her  mistress:  — 
233 


A  KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"  I  hope  Mr.  Braelands  is  well ;  and  though 
I  say  it  as  perhaps  I  should  n't  say  it,  we  was 
all  pleased  at  your  getting  Master's  letter  this 
morning.  We  all  hope  it  will  make  you  feel 
brighter  and  stronger,  I  'm  sure." 

"The  letter  was  Madame's  letter,  not  mine, 
Leslie." 

"Indeed,  it  was  not,  ma'am.  Alexander 
said  himself,  and  I  heard  him,  '  there  is  a  long 
letter  for  Mrs.  Archibald  this  morning,'  and 
we  were  all  that  pleased  as  never  was." 

"  Are  you  sure,  Leslie  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  am  sure." 

"Go  down-stairs  and  ask  Alexander." 

Leslie  went  and  came  back  immediately 
with  Alexander's  positive  assertion  that  the 
letter  was  directed  to  Mrs.  Archibald  Brae- 
lands.  Sophy  made  no  answer,  but  there  was 
a  swift  and  remarkable  change  in  her  appear 
ance  and  manner.  She  put  her  physical  weak 
ness  out  of  her  consideration,  and  with  a  flush 
on  her  cheeks  and  a  flashing  light  in  her  eyes, 
she  went  down  to  the  parlour.  Madame  had 
a  caller  with  her,  a  lady  of  not  very  decided 
position,  who  was  therefore  eager  to  please  her 
patron;  but  Sophy  was  beyond  all  regard  for 
such  conventionalities  as  she  had  been  ordered 
to  observe.  She  took  no  notice  of  the  visitor, 
but  going  straight  to  Madame,  she  said :  — 
234 


"TAKE   ME   IN  TO   DIE" 

"You  took  my  letter  this  morning.  You 
had  no  right  to  take  it;  you  had  no  right  to 
read  it;  you  had  no  right  to  make  up  lies  from 
it  and  come  to  my  bedside  with  them.  Give 
me  my  letter." 

Madame  turned  to  her  visitor.  "  You  see 
this  impossible  creature!  "  she  cried.  "She 
demands  from  me  a  letter  that  never  came." 

"  It  did  come.  You  have  my  letter.  Give 
it  to  me." 

"  My  dear  Sophy,  go  to  your  room.  You  are 
not  in  a  fit  state  to  see  any  one." 

"Give  me  my  letter.  At  least,  let  me  see 
the  letter  that  came." 

"  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  If  you 
choose  to  suspect  me,  you  must  do  so.  Can  I 
make  your  husband  write  to  you?  " 

"He  did  write  to  me." 

"Mrs.  Stirling,  do  you  wonder  now  at  my 
son's  running  away  from  his  home?" 

"  Indeed  I  am  fairly  astonished  at  what  I  see 
and  hear." 

"  Sophy,  you  foolish  woman,  do  not  make 
any  greater  exhibit  of  yourself  that  you  have 
done.  For  heaven's  sake,  go  to  your  own  room. 
I  have  only  my  own  letter,  and  I  told  you  all 
of  importance  in  it." 

"  Every  servant  in  the  house  knows  that  the 
letter  was  mine." 

235 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"What  the  servants  know  is  nothing  to  me. 
Now,  Sophy,  I  will  stand  no  more  of  this; 
either  you  leave  the  room,  or  Mrs.  Stirling 
and  I  will  do  so.  Remember  that  you  have 
betrayed  yourself.  I  am  not  to  blame." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Madame  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  you  may  have  hallucinations, 
but  that  you  need  not  exhibit  them  to  the 
world.  For  my  son's  sake,  I  demand  that  you 
go  to  your  room. " 

"I  want  my  letter.  For  God's  sake,  have 
pity  on  me,  and  give  me  my  letter ! " 

Madame  did  not  answer,  but  she  took  her 
friend  by  the  arm  and  they  left  the  room 
together.  In  the  hall  Madame  saw  a  servant, 
and  she  said  blandly:  — 

"  Go  and  tell  Leslie  to  look  after  her  mis 
tress;  she  is  in  the  parlour.  And  you  may 
also  tell  Leslie  that  if  she  allows  her  to  come 
down  again  in  her  present  mood,  she  will  be 
dismissed." 

"Poor  thing!"  said  Mrs.  Stirling.  "You 
must  have  your  hands  full  with  her,  Madame. 
Nobody  had  any  idea  of  such  a  tragedy  as  this, 
though  I  must  say  I  have  heard  many  wonder 
about  the  lady's  seclusion." 

"You  see  the  necessity  for  it.  However, 
we  do  not  wish  any  talk  on  the  subject." 

Slowly  it  came  to  Sophy's  comprehension 
236 


"TAKE   ME   IN   TO   DIE" 

that  she  had  been  treated  like  an  insane 
woman,  and  her  anger,  though  quiet,  was  of 
that  kind  that  means  action  of  some  sort.  She 
went  to  her  room,  but  it  was  only  to  recall  the 
wrong  upon  wrong,  the  insult  upon  insult  she 
had  received. 

"I  will  go  away  from  it  all,"  she  said.  "I 
will  go  away  until  Archie  returns.  I  will  not 
sleep  another  night  under  the  same  roof  with 
that  wicked  woman.  I  will  stay  away  till  I 
die,  ere  I  will  do  it." 

Usually  she  had  little  strength  for  much 
movement,  but  at  this  hour  she  felt  no  physi 
cal  weakness.  She  made  Leslie  bring  her  a 
street  costume  of  brown  cloth,  and  she  care 
fully  put  into  her  purse  all  the  money  she  had. 
Then  she  ordered  the  carriage  and  rode  as  far 
as  her  aunt  Kilgour's.  "Come  for  me  in  an 
hour,  Thomas,"  she  said,  and  then  she  entered 
the  shop. 

"Aunt,  I  am  come  back  to  you.  Will  you 
let  me  stay  with  you  till  Archie  gets  home?  I 
can  bide  yon  dreadful  old  woman  no  longer." 

"Meaning  Madame  Braelands?  " 

"She  is  just  beyond  all  things.  This  morn 
ing  she  has  kept  a  letter  that  Archie  wrote  me; 
and  she  has  told  me  a  lot  of  lies  in  its  place. 
I  'm  not  able  to  thole  her  another  hour." 

"I'll   tell   you    what,   Sophy,    Madam-e   was 
237 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE  NETS 

here  since  I  saw  you,  and  she  says  you  are 
neither  to  be  guided  nor  endured.  I  don't 
know  who  to  believe." 

"Oh!  aunt,  aunt,  you  know  well  I  wouldn't 
tell  you  a  lie.  I  am  so  miserable!  For  God's 
sake,  take  me  in !  " 

"I'd  like  to,  Sophy,  but  I'm  not  free  to 
do  so." 

"You  're  putting  Madame's  bit  of  siller  and 
the  work  she  's  promised  you  from  the  Glamis 
girl  before  my  heart-break.  Oh,  how  can  you  ?" 

"  Sophy,  you  have  lived  with  me,  and  I  saw 
you  often  dissatisfied  and  unreasonable  for 
nothing  at  all." 

"I  was  a  bit  foolish  lassie  then.  I  am  a 
poor,  miserable,  sick  woman  now." 

"You  have  no  need  to  be  poor,  and  miser 
able,  and  sick.  I  won't  encourage  you  to  run 
away  from  your  home  and  your  duty.  At  any 
rate,  bide  where  you  are  till  your  husband 
comes  back.  I  would  be  wicked  to  give  you 
any  other  advice." 

"  You  mean  that  you  won't  let  rne  come  and 
stay  with  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  won't.  I  would  be  your  worst  enemy 
if  I  did." 

"Then  good-bye.  You  will  maybe  be  sorry 
some  day  for  the  '  No  '  you  have  just  said." 

"  She  went  slowly  out  of  the  store,  and 
238 


"TAKE   ME   IN   TO   DIE" 

Griselda  was  very  unhappy,  and  called  to  her 
to  come  back  and  wait  for  her  carriage.  She 
did  not  heed  or  answer,  but  walked  with  evi 
dent  purpose  down  a  certain  street.  It  led 
her  to  the  railway  station,  and  she  went  in  and 
took  a  ticket  for  Edinburgh.  She  had  hardly 
done  so  when  the  train  came  thundering  into 
the  station;  she  stepped  into  it,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  was  flying  at  express-rate  to  her  desti 
nation.  She  had  relatives  in  Edinburgh,  and 
she  thought  she  knew  their  dwelling-place, 
having  called  on  them  with  her  Aunt  Kilgour 
when  they  were  in  that  city,  just  previous  to 
her  marriage.  But  she  found  that  they  had 
removed,  and  no  one  in  the  vicinity  knew  to 
what  quarter  of  the  town.  She  was  too  tired 
to  pursue  inquiries,  or  even  to  think  any  more 
that  day,  and  she  went  to  a  hotel  and  tried  to 
rest  and  sleep.  In  the  morning  she  remem 
bered  that  her  mother's  cousin,  Jane  Anderson, 
lived  in  Glasgow  at  some  number  in  Monteith 
Row.  The  Row  was  not  a  long  one,  even  if 
she  had  to  go  from  house  to  house  to  find  her 
relative.  So  she  determined  to  go  on  to 
Glasgow. 

She   felt    ill,    strangely   ill ;    she   was   in   a 

burning  fever  and  did  not  know  it.     Yet  she 

managed  to  get   into  the  proper  train,  and  to 

retain  her  consciousness   for   sometime  after- 

239 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

wards,  ere  she  succumbed  to  the  inevitable 
consequences  of  her  condition.  Before  the 
train  reached  its  destination,  however,  she  was 
in  a  desperate  state,  and  the  first  action  of  the 
guard  was  to  call  a  carriage  and  send  her  to  a 
hospital. 

After  this  kindness  had  been  done,  Sophy 
was  dead  to  herself  and  the  world  for  nearly 
three  weeks.  She  remembered  nothing,  she 
knew  nothing,  she  spoke  only  in  the  most 
disconnected  and  puzzling  manner.  For  her 
speech  wandered  between  the  homely  fisher- 
life  of  her  childhood  and  the  splendid  social 
life  of  Braelands.  Her  personality  was  equally 
perplexing.  The  clothing  she  wore  was  of 
the  finest  quality;  her  rings,  and  brooch,  and 
jewelled  watch,  indicated  wealth  and  station ; 
yet  her  speech,  especially  during  the  fever, 
was  that  of  the  people,  and  as  she  began  to 
help  herself,  she  had  little  natural  actions  that 
showed  the  want  of  early  polite  breeding.  No 
letter  or  card,  no  name  or  address  of  any  kind, 
was  found  on  her  person ;  she  appeared  to  be 
as  absolutely  lost  as  a  stone  dropped  into  the 
deep  sea. 

And  when  she  came  to  herself  and  realised 
where  she  was,  and  found  out  from  her  attend 
ant  the  circumstances  under  which  she  had 
been  brought  to  the  hospital,  she  was  still 
240 


"TAKE   ME   IN   TO   DIE" 

more  reticent.  For  her  first  thought  related  to 
the  annoyance  Archie  would  feel  at  her  deten 
tion  in  a  public  hospital;  her  second,  to  the 
unmerciful  use  Madame  would  make  of  the  cir 
cumstance.  She  could  not  reason  very  clearly, 
but  her  idea  was  to  find  her  cousin  and  gain  her 
protection,  and  then,  from  that  more  respect 
able  covert,  to  write  to  her  husband.  She 
might  admit  her  illness  —  indeed,  she  would  be 
almost  compelled  to  do  that,  for  she  had  fallen 
away  so  much,  and  had  had  her  hair  cut  short 
during  the  height  of  the  fever  —  but  Archie  and 
Madame  must  not  know  that  she  had  been  in  a 
public  hospital.  For  fisher-people  have  a  singu 
lar  dislike  to  public  charity  of  any  kind;  they 
help  one  another.  And,  to  Sophy's  intelli 
gence,  the  hospital  episode  was  a  disgrace  that 
not  even  her  insensibility  could  quite  excuse. 

Several  weeks  passed  in  that  long,  spotless, 
white  room  full  of  suffering,  before  Sophy  was 
able  to  stand  upon  her  feet,  before  indeed  she 
began  to  realise  the  passage  of  time,  and  the 
consequences  which  must  have  followed  her 
long  absence  and  silence.  But  all  her  efforts  at 
writing  were  failures.  The  thought  she  wished 
to  express  slipped  off  into  darkness  as  soon  as 
she  tried  to  write  it;  her  vision  failed  her,  her 
hands  failed  her;  she  could  only  sink  back 
upon  her  pillow  and  lie  inert  and  almost  indif- 
'6  241 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

ferent  for  hours  afterwards.  And  as  the  one 
letter  she  wished  to  write  was  to  Archie,  she 
could  not  depute  it  to  any  one  else.  Besides, 
the  nurse  would  tell  where  she  was,  and  that 
was  a  circumstance  she  must  at  all  hazards 
keep  to  herself.  It  had  been  hot  July  weather 
when  she  was  first  placed  on  her  hard,  weary 
bed  of  suffering,  it  was  the  end  of  September 
when  she  was  able  to  leave  the  hospital. 
Her  purse  with  its  few  sovereigns  in  it  was 
returned  to  her,  and  the  doctor  told  her  kindly, 
if  she  had  any  friends  in  the  world,  to  go  at 
once  to  their  care. 

"You  have  talked  a  great  deal  of  the  sea 
and  the  boats,"  he  said;  "get  close  to  the  sea 
if  you  can  ;  it  is  perhaps  the  best  and  the  only 
thing  for  you." 

She  thanked  him  and  answered :  "  I  am  going 
to  the  Fife  coast.  I  have  friends  there,  I 
think."  She  put  out  a  little  wasted  hand, 
and  he  clasped  it  with  a  sigh. 

"So  young,  so  pretty,  so  good,"  he  said  to 
the  nurse,  as  they  stood  watching  her  walk 
very  feebly  and  unsteadily  away. 

"  I  will  give  her  three  months  at  the  longest, 
if  she  has  love  and  care.  I  will  give  her  three 
weeks  —  nay,  I  will  say  three  days,  if  she  has 
to  care  for  herself,  or  if  any  particular  trouble 
come  to  her." 

242 


"TAKE    ME   IN   TO   DIE" 

Then  they  turned  from  the  window,  and 
Sophy  hired  a  cab  and  went  to  Monteith  Row 
to  try  and  find  her  friends.  She  wanted  to 
write  to  her  husband  and  ask  him  to  come  for 
her.  She  thought  she  could  do  this  best  from 
her  cousin's  home.  "I  will  give  her  a  bonnie 
ring  or  two,  and  I  will  tell  her  the  whole 
truth;  and  she  will  be  sure  to  stand  by  me,  for 
there  is  nothing  wrong  to  stand  by,  and  blood 
is  aye  thicker  than  water."  And  then  her 
thoughts  wandered  on  to  a  contingency  that 
brought  a  flush  of  pain  to  her  cheeks.  "  Besides, 
maybe  Archie  might  have  an  ill-thought  put 
into  his  head,  and  then  the  doctors  and  nurses 
in  the  hospital  could  tell  him  what  would 
make  all  clear."  She  went  through  many  of 
the  houses,  inquiring  for  Ellen  Montgomery, 
but  could  not  find  her,  and  she  was  finally 
obliged  to  go  to  a  hotel  and  rest.  "I  will 
take  the  lave  of  the  houses  in  the  morning," 
she  thought,  "it  is  aye  the  last  thing  that  is 
the  right  thing;  everybody  finds  that  out." 

That  evening,  however,  something  happened 
which  changed  all  her  ideas  and  intentions. 
She  went  into  the  hotel  parlour  and  sat  down ; 
there  were  some  newspapers  on  the  table,  and 
she  lifted  one.  It  was  an  Edinburgh  paper, 
but  the  first  words  her  eyes  fell  on  was  her 
husband's  name.  Her  heart  leaped  up  at  the 
243 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

sight  of  it,  and  she  read  the  paragraph.  Then 
the  paper  dropped  from  her  hands.  She  felt 
that  she  was  going  to  faint,  and  by  a  supreme 
effort  of  will  she  recalled  her  senses  and 
compelled  them  to  stay  and  suffer  with  her. 
Again,  and  then  again,  she  read  the  paragraph, 
unable  at  first  to  believe  what  she  did  read; 
for  it  was  a  notice,  signed  by  her  husband, 
advising  the  world  in  general  that  she  had 
voluntarily  left  his  home,  and  that  he  would  no 
longer  be  responsible  for  any  debt  she  might 
contract  in  his  name.  To  her  childlike,  igno 
rant  nature,  this  public  exposure  of  her  was  a 
final  act.  She  felt  that  it  was  all  the  same 
as  a  decree  of  divorce.  "Archie  had  cast  her 
off;  Madame  had  at  last  parted  them."  For 
an  hour  she  sat  still  in  a  very  stupour  of 
despair. 

"But  something  might  yet  be  done;  yes, 
something  must  be  done.  She  would  go  in 
stantly  to  Fife;  she  would  tell  Archie  every 
thing.  He  could  not  blame  her  for  being  sick 
and  beyond  reason  or  knowledge.  The  doctors 
and  nurses  of  the  hospital  would  certify  to  the 
truth  of  all  she  said."  Ah!  she  had  only  to 
look  in  a  mirror  to  know  that  her  own  wasted 
face  and  form  would  have  been  testimony 
enough. 

That  night  she  could  not  move,  she  had  done 

244 


"TAKE   ME   IN  TO   DIE" 

all  that  it  was  possible  for  her  to  do  that  day; 
but  on  the  morrow  she  would  be  rested  and  she 
might  trust  herself  to  the  noise  and  bustle  of 
the  street  and  railway.  The  day  was  well  on 
before  she  found  strength  to  do  this;  but  at 
length  she  found  herself  on  the  direct  road  to 
Largo,  though  she  could  hardly  tell  how  it  had 
been  managed.  As  she  approached  the  long 
chain  of  Fife  fishing-villages,  she  bought  the 
newspaper  most  widely  read  in  them ;  and,  to 
her  terror  and  shame,  found  the  same  warning 
to  honest  folk  against  her.  She  was  heart 
sick.  "With  this  barrier  between  Archie  and 
herself,  how  could  she  go  to  Braelancls  ?  How 
could  she  face  Madame?  What  mockery  would 
be  made  of  her  explanations?  No,  she  must 
see  Archie  alone.  She  must  tell  him  the  whole 
truth,  somewhere  beyond  Madame' s  contradic 
tion  and  influence.  Whom  should  she  goto? 
Her  aunt  Kilgour  had  turned  her  away,  even 
before  this  disgrace.  Her  cousin  Isobel's  hus 
band  had  asked  her  not  to  come  to  his  house 
and  make  loss  and  trouble  for  him.  If  she 
went  direct  to  Braelands,  and  Archie  happened 
to  be  out  of  the  house,  Madame  would  say  such 
things  of  her  before  every  one  as  could  never 
be  unsaid.  If  she  went  to  a  hotel,  she  would 
be  known,  and  looked  at,  and  whispered  about, 
and  maybe  slighted.  What  must  she  do? 
245 


A  KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

Where  could  she  see  her  husband  best  ?  "  She 
was  at  her  wit's  end.  She  was  almost  at  the 
end  of  her  physical  strength  and  consciousness. 
And  in  this  condition,  two  men  behind  her 
began  to  talk  to  the  rustle  of  their  turning 
newspapers. 

"This  is  a  queer-like  thing  about  Braelands 
and  his  wife,"  said  one. 

"It  is  a  very  bad  thing.  If  the  wife  has 
gane  awa',  she  has  been  driven  awa'  by  bad 
usage.  There  is  an  old  woman  at  Braelands 
that  is  as  evil-hearted  as  if  she  had  slipped  out 
o'  hell  for  a  few  years.  Traill's  girl  was  good 
and  bonnie;  she  was  too  good,  or  she  would 
have  held  her  ain  side  better." 

"  That  may  be ;  but  there  is  a  reason  deeper 
than  that.  The  man  is  wanting  to  marry  the 
Glamis  girl.  He  has  already  began  a  suit  for 
divorce,  I  hear.  Man,  man,  there  is  always  a 
woman  at  the  bottom  of  every  sin  and  trouble !  " 

Then  they  began  to  speak  of  the  crops  and 
the  shooting,  and  Sophy  listened  in  vain  for 
more  intelligence.  But  she  had  heard  enough. 
Her  soul  cried  out  against  the  hurry  and  shame 
of  the  steps  taken  in  the  matter.  "  So  cruel 
as  Archie  is!"  she  sighed.  "He  might  have 
looked  for  me !  He  might  have  found  me  even 
in  that  awful  hospital !  He  ought  to  have  done 
so,  and  taken  me  away  and  nursed  me  himself ! 
246 


"TAKE   ME   IN   TO   DIE" 

If  he  had  loved  me!  If  he  had  loved  me,  he 
would  have  done  these  things ! "  Despair 
chilled  her  very  blood.  She  had  a  thought 
of  going  to  Braelands,  even  if  she  died  on  its 
threshold;  and  then  suddenly  she  remembered 
Janet  Binnie. 

As  Janet's  name  came  to  her  mind,  the  train 
stopped  at  Largo,  and  she  slipped  out  among 
the  hurrying  crowd  and  took  the  shortest  road 
to  Pittendurie.  It  was  then  nearly  dark,  and 
the  evening  quite  chill  and  damp;  but  there 
was  now  a  decisive  end  before  the  dying 
woman.  "  She  must  reach  Janet  Binnie,  and 
then  leave  all  to  her.  She  would  bring  Archie 
to  her  side.  She  would  be  sufficient  for 
Madame.  If  this  only  could  be  managed  while 
she  had  strength  to  speak,  to  explain,  to  put 
herself  right  in  Archie's  eyes,  then  she  would 
be  willing  and  glad  to  die."  Step  by  step,  she 
stumbled  forward,  full  of  unutterable  anguish 
of  heart,  and  tortured  at  every  movement  by 
an  inability  to  get  breath  enough  to  carry  her 
forward. 

At  last,  at  last,  she  came  in  sight  of  Janet's 
cottage.  The  cliff  terrified  her;  but  she  must 
get  up  it,  somehow.  And  as  she  painfully 
made  step  after  step,  a  light  shone  through  the 
open  door  and  seemed  to  give  her  strength  and 
welcome.  Janet  had  been  spending  the  even- 
247 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

ing  with  her  daughter,  and  had  sat  with  her 
until  near  her  bedtime.  She  was  doing  her 
last  household  duties,  and  the  last  of  all  was 
to  close  the  house-door.  When  she  went  to  do 
this,  a  little  figure  crouched  on  the  door-step, 
two  weak  hands  clasped  her  round  the  knees, 
and  the  very  shadow  of  a  thin,  pitiful  voice 
sobbed : — 

"Janet!  Take  me  in,  Janet!  Take  me  in 
to  die!  I  '11  not  trouble  you  long —  it  is  most 
over,  Janet ! " 


248 


CHAPTER    XI 

DRIVEN    TO    HIS    DUTY 

TOWARD  this  culmination  of  her  troubles 
Archie  had  indeed  contributed  far  too  much, 
but  yet  not  as  much  as  Sophy  thought.  He  had 
taken  her  part,  he  had  sought  for  her,  he  had 
very  reluctantly  come  to  accept  his  mother's 
opinions.  His  trip  had  not  been  altogether  the 
heaven  Madame  represented  it.  The  Admiral 
had  proved  himself  dictatorial  and  sometimes 
very  disagreeable  at  sea;  the  other  members 
of  the  party  had  each  some  unpleasant  pecu 
liarities  which  the  cramped  quarters  and  the 
monotony  of  yacht  life  developed.  Some  had 
deserted  altogether,  others  grumbled  more  than 
was  agreeable,  and  Marion's  constant  high 
spirits  proved  to  be  at  times  a  great  exaction. 

Before  the  close  of  the  pleasure  voyage, 
Archie  frequently  went  alone  to  remember  the 
sweet,  gentle  affection  of  his  wife,  her  delight 
in  his  smallest  attentions,  her  instant  recog 
nition  of  his  desires,  her  patient  endeavours  to 
please  him,  her  resignation  to  all  his  neglect. 
Her  image  grew  into  his  best  imagination,  and 
249 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

when  he  left  the  yacht  at  her  moorings  in 
Pittendurie  Bay,  he  hastened  to  Sophy  with  the 
impatience  of  a  lover  who  is  also  a  husband. 

Madame  had  heard  of  his  arrival  and  was 
watching  for  her  son.  She  met  him  at  the 
door  and  he  embraced  her  affectionately,  but 
his  first  words  were,  "  Sophy,  I  hope  she  is  not 
ill.  Where  is  she?" 

"  My  dear  Archie,  no  one  knows.  She  left 
your  home  three  weeks  after  you  had  sailed." 

"  My  God,  Mother,  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  No  one  knows  why  she  left,  no  one  knows 
or  can  find  out  where  she  went  to.  Of  course, 
I  have  my  suspicions." 

"Sophy!  Sophy!  Sophy!"  he  cried,  sinking 
into  a  chair  and  covering  his  face;  but,  what 
ever  Madame's  suspicions,  she  could  not  but 
see  that  Archie  had  not  a  doubt  of  his  wife's 
honour.  After  a  few  minutes'  silence,  he 
turned  to  his  mother  and  said:  — 

"You  have  scolded  for  once,  Mother,  more 
than  enough.  I  am  sure  it  is  your  unkindness 
that  has  driven  my  wife  from  her  home.  You 
promised  me  not  to  interfere  with  her  little 
plans  and  pleasures." 

"If  I  am  to  bear  the  blame  of  the  woman's 
low  tastes,  I  decline  to  discuss  the  matter;" 
and  she  left  the  room  with  an  air  of  great 
offence. 

250 


DRIVEN   TO    HIS   DUTY 

Of  course,  if  Madame  would  not  discuss  the 
matter  with  him,  nothing  remained  but  the  mak 
ing  of  such  inquiries  as  the  rest  of  the  house 
hold  could  answer.  Thomas  readily  told  all 
he  knew,  which  was  the  simple  statement  that 
"he  took  his  mistress  to  her  aunt's  and  left  her 
there,  and  that  when  he  returned  for  her,  Miss 
Kilgour  was  much  distressed  and  said  she  had 
already  left. "  Archie  then  immediately  sought 
Miss  Kilgour,  and  from  her  learned  the  partic 
ulars  of  his  wife's  wretchedness,  especially 
those  points  relating  to  the  appropriated  letter. 
He  flushed  crimson  at  this  outrage,  but  made 
no  remark  concerning  it. 

"My  one  desire  now,"  he  said,  "is  to  find 
out  where  Sophy  has  taken  refuge.  Can  you 
give  me  any  idea?  " 

"  If  she  is  not  in  Pittendurie,  —  and  I  can 
find  no  trace  of  her  there,  —  then  I  think  she 
may  be  in  Edinburgh  or  Glasgow.  You  will 
mind  she  had  cousins  in  Edinburgh,  and  she 
was  very  kind  with  them  at  the  time  of  her 
marriage.  I  thought  of  them  first  of  all,  and  I 
wrote  three  letters  to  them ;  but  there  has  been 
no  answer  to  any  of  the  three.  She  has  friends 
in  Glasgow,  but  I  am  sure  she  had  no  knowl 
edge  as  to  where  they  lived.  Besides,  I  got 
their  address  from  kin  in  Aberdeen  and  wrote 
there  also,  and  they  answered  me  and  said  they 
251 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

had  never  seen  or  heard  tell  of  Sophy.     Here 
is  their  letter." 

Archie  read  it  carefully  and  was  satisfied 
that  Sophy  was  not  in  Glasgow.  The  silence 
of  the  Edinburgh  cousins  was  more  promising, 
and  he  resolved  to  go  at  once  to  that  city  and 
interview  them.  He  did  not  even  return  to 
Braelands,  but  took  the  next  train  southward. 
Of  course  his  inquiries  utterly  failed.  He 
found  Sophy's  relatives,  but  their  air  of  amaze 
ment  and  their  ready  and  positive  denial  of  all 
knowledge  of  his  lost  wife  were  not  to  be 
doubted.  Then  he  returned  to  Largo.  He 
assured  himself  that  Sophy  was  certainly  in 
hiding  among  the  fisher-folk  in  Pittendurie, 
and  that  he  would  only  have  to  let  it  be  known 
that  he  had  returned  for  her  to  appear.  Indeed 
she  must  have  seen  the  yacht  at  anchor,  and 
he  fully  expected  to  find  her  on  the  door-step 
waiting  for  him.  As  he  approached  Braelands, 
he  fancied  her  arms  round  his  neck,  and  saw 
her  small,  wistful,  flushing  face  against  his 
breast ;  but  it  was  all  a  dream.  The  door  was 
closed,  and  when  it  admitted  him  there  was 
nothing  but  silence  and  vacant  rooms.  He  was 

o 

nearly  distracted  with  sorrow  and  anger,  and 
Madame  had  a  worse  hour  than  she  ever  remem 
bered  when  Archie  asked  her  about  the  fatal 
letter  that  had  been  the  active  cause  of  trouble. 
252 


DRIVEN   TO    HIS   DUTY 

"The  letter  was  Sophy's,"  he  said  passion 
ately,  "  and  you  knew  it  was.  How  then  could 
you  be  so  shamefully  dishonourable  as  to  keep 
it  from  her? " 

"  If  you  choose  to  reproach  me  on  mere  ser 
vants'  gossip,  I  cannot  prevent  you." 

"It  is  not  servants'  gossip.  I  know  by  the 
date  on  which  Sophy  left  home  that  it  must 
have  been  the  letter  I  wrote  her  from  Chris- 
tiania.  It  was  a  disgraceful,  cruel  thing  for 
you  to  do.  I  can  never  look  you  in  your  face 
again,  Mother.  I  do  not  feel  that  I  can  speak 
to  you,  or  even  see  you,  until  my  wife  has 
forgiven  both  you  and  myself.  Oh,  if  I  only 
knew  where  to  look  for  her ! " 

"She  is  not  far  to  seek;  she  is  undoubtedly 
among  her  kinsfolk  at  Pittendurie.  You  may 
remember,  perhaps,  how  they  felt  toward  you 
before  you  went  away.  After  you  went,  she 
was  with  them  continually." 

"Then  Thomas  lies.  He  says  he  never  took 
her  anywhere  but  to  her  aunt  Kilgour's. " 

"  I  think  Thomas  is  more  likely  to  lie  than 
I  am.  If  you  have  strength  to  bear  the  truth,  I 
will  tell  you  what  I  am  convinced  of." 

"  I  have  strength  for  anything  but  this 
wretched  suspense  and  fear." 

"Very  well,  then,  go  to  the  woman  called 
Janet  Binnie;  you  may  recollect,  if  you  will, 
253 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

that  her  son  Andrew  was  Sophy's  ardent  lover 
—  so  much  so,  that  her  marriage  to  you  nearly 
killed  him.  He  has  become  a  captain  lately, 
wears  gold  buttons  and  bands,  and  is  really  a 
very  handsome  and  important  man  in  the  opin 
ion  of  such  people  as  your  wife.  I  believe 
Sophy  is  either  in  his  mother's  house  or  else 
she  has  gone  to — London." 

"Why  London?" 

"  Captain  Binnie  sails  continually  to  London. 
Really,  Archie,  there  are  none  so  blind  as  those 
who  won't  see." 

"I  will  not  believe  such  a  thing  of  Sophy. 
She  is  as  pure  and  innocent  as  a  little  child." 

Madame  laughed  scornfully.  "  She  is  as 
pure  and  innocent  as  those  baby-faced  women 
usually  are.  As  a  general  rule,  the  worst 
creature  in  the  world  is  a  saint  in  comparison. 
What  did  Sophy  steal  out  at  night  for?  Tell 
me  that.  Why  did  she  walk  to  Pittendurie  so 
often?  Why  did  she  tell  me  she  was  going  to 
walk  to  her  aunt's,  and  then  never  go  ?  " 

"Mother,  Mother,  are  you  telling  me  the 
truth?" 

"Your  inquiry  is  an  insult,  Archie.  And 
your  blindness  to  Sophy's  real  feelings  is  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  things  I  ever  saw.  Can 
you  not  look  back  and  see  that  ever  since  she 
married  you  she  has  regretted  and  fretted  about 
254 


DRIVEN   TO   HIS   DUTY 

the  step?  Her  heart  is  really  with  her  fisher 
and  sailor  lover.  She  only  married  you  for 
what  you  could  give  her;  and  having  got  what 
you  could  give  her,  she  soon  ceased  to  prize  it, 
and  her  love  went  back  to  Captain  Binnic, — 
that  is,  if  it  had  ever  left  him." 

Conversation  based  on  these  shameful  fabri 
cations  was  continued  for  hours,  and  Madame, 
who  had  thoroughly  prepared  herself  for  it, 
brought  one  bit  of  circumstantial  evidence  after 
another  to  prove  her  suspicions.  The  wretched 
husband  was  worked  to  a  fury  of  jealous  anger 
not  to  be  controlled.  "  I  will  search  every  cot 
tage  in  Pittendurie,"  he  said  in  a  rage.  "I  will 
find  Sophy,  and  then  kill  her  and  myself." 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  Archibald  Braelands.  Find 
the  woman,  —  that  is  necessary,  —  then  get  a 
divorce  from  her,  and  marry  among  your  own 
kind.  Why  should  you  lose  your  life,  or  even 
ruin  it,  for  a  fisherman's  old  love?  In  a  year 
or  two  you  will  have  forgotten  her  and  thrown 
the  whole  affair  behind  your  back." 

It  is  easy  to  understand  how  a  conversation 
pursued  for  hours  in  this  vein  would  affect 
Archie.  He  was  weak  and  impulsive,  ready  to 
suspect  whatever  was  suggested,  jealous  of  his 
own  rights  and  honour,  and  on  the  whole  of  that 
pliant  nature  which  a  strong,  positive  woman 
like  Madame  could  manipulate  like  wax.  He 
255 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

walked  his  room  all  night  in  a  frenzy  of  jealous 
love.  Sophy  lost  to  him  had  acquired  a  sudden 
charm  and  value  beyond  all  else  in  life;  he 
longed  for  the  morning;  for  Madame's  positive 
opinions  had  thoroughly  convinced  him,  and  he 
felt  a  great  deal  more  sure  than  she  did  that 
Sophy  was  in  Pittendurie.  And  yet,  after 
every  such  assurance  to  himself,  his  inmost 
heart  asked  coldly,  "Why  then  has  she  not 
come  back  to  you  ? " 

He  could  eat  no  breakfast,  and  as  soon  as  he 
thought  the  village  was  awake,  he  rode  rapidly 
down  to  Pittendurie.  Janet  was  alone;  Andrew 
was  somewhere  between  Fife  and  London; 
Christina  was  preparing  her  morning  meal  in 
her  own  cottage.  Janet  had  already  eaten 
hers,  and  she  was  washing  her  tea-cup  and 
plate  and  singing  as  she  did  so, — 

"  I  cast  my  line  in  Largo  Bay, 
And  fishes  I  caught  nine ; 
There's  three  to  boil,  and  three  to  fry, 
And  three  to  bait  the  line," 

when  she  heard  a  sharp  rap  at  her  door.  The 
rap  was  not  made  with  the  hand;  it  was  per 
emptory  and  unusual,  and  startled  Janet.  She 
put  down  the  plate  she  was  wiping,  ceased 
singing,  and  went  to  the  door.  The  Master 
of  Braelands  was  standing  there.  He  had  his 

256 


DRIVEN  TO    HIS   DUTY 

short  riding-whip  in  his  hand,  and  Janet  under 
stood  at  once  that  he  had  struck  her  house  door 
with  the  handle  of  it.  She  was  offended  at 
this,  and  she  asked  dourly :  — 

"Well,  sir,  your  bidding?  " 

"  I  came  to  see  my  wife.     Where  is  she  ?  " 

"You  ought  to  know  that  better  than  any 
other  body.  It  is  none  of  my  business." 

"  I  tell  you  she  has  left  her  home." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  she  had  the  best  of  good 
reasons  for  doing  so." 

"She  had  no  reason  at  all." 

Janet  shrugged  her  shoulders,  smiled  with 
scornful  disbelief,  and  looked  over  the  tossing 
black  waters. 

"Woman,  I  wish  to  go  through  your  house, 
I  believe  my  wife  is  in  it." 

"Go  through  my  house?  No  indeed.  Do 
you  think  I  '11  let  a  man  with  a  whip  in  his 
hand  go  through  my  house  after  a  poor  fright 
ened  bird  like  Sophy?  No,  no,  not  while  my 
name  is  Janet  Binnie. " 

"I  rode  here;  my  whip  is  for  my  horse.  Do 
you  think  I  would  use  it  on  any  woman  ?  " 

"God  knows,  I  don't." 

"  I  am  not  a  brute." 

"You  say  so  yourself." 

"Woman,  I  did  not  come  here  to  bandy 
words  with  you." 

17  257 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"Man,  I  'm  no  caring  to  hear  another  word 
you  have  to  say;  take  yourself  off  my  door- 
stone,"  and  Janet  would  have  shut  the  door  in 
his  face,  but  he  would  not  permit  her. 

"Tell  Sophy  to  come  and  speak  to  me." 

"Sophy  is  not  here." 

"  She  has  no  reason  to  be  afraid  of  me. " 

"I  should  think  not." 

"Go  and  tell  her  to  come  to  me  then." 

"She  is  not  in  my  house.     I  wish  she  was." 

"She  is  in  your  house." 

"Do  you  dare  to  call  me  a  liar?     Man  alive! 
Do  it  again,  and  every  fisher-wife  in  Pittendurie 
will  help  me  to  give  you  your  fairings. " 
"  Tusk  !     Let  me  see  my  wife. " 

"Take  yourself  off  my  doorstep,  or  it  will  be 
the  worse  for  you." 

"  Let  me  see  my  wife." 

"Coming  here  and  chapping  on  my  door  — 
on  Janet  Binnie's  door  !  —  with  a  horsewhip !  " 

"There  is  no  use  trying  to  deceive  me  with 
bad  words.  Let  me  pass. " 

"Off  with  you!  you  poor  creature,  you! 
Sophy  Traill  had  a  bad  bargain  with  the  like 
of  you,  you  drunken,  lying,  savage-like,  wife- 
beating  pretence  o'  a  husband  !  " 

"Mother!  Mother!"  cried  Christina,  coming 
hastily  forward;  "Mother,  what  are  you  saying 
at  all?" 

258 


DRIVEN   TO    HIS   DUTY 

"The  God's  truth,  Christina,  that  and  noth 
ing  else.  Ask  the  mean,  perfectly  unutterable 
scoundrel  how  he  got  beyond  his  mother's 
apron-strings  so  far  as  this?" 

Christina  turned  to  Braelands.  "Sir,"  she 
said,  "what  's  your  will?  " 

"  My  wife  has  left  her  home,  and  I  have  been 
told  she  is  in  Mistress  Binnie's  house." 

"  She  is  not.  We  know  nothing  about  the 
poor,  miserable  lass,  God  help  her!" 

"I  cannot  believe  you." 

"Please  yourself  anent  believing  me;  but 
you  had  better  be  going,  sir.  I  see  Limmer 
Scott  and  Mistress  Roy  and  a  few  more  fish 
wives  looking  this  way." 

"Let  them  look." 

"Well,  they  have  their  own  fashion  of  deal 
ing  with  men  who  ill-use  a  fisher-lass.  Sophy 
was  born  among  them." 

"  You  are  a  bad  lot !  altogether  a  bad  lot !  " 

"Go  now,  and  go  quick,  or  we'll  prove  to 
you  that  we  are  a  bad  lot !  "  cried  Janet.  "  I 
would  n't  myself  think  anything  of  putting  you 
in  a  blanket  and  tossing  you  o'er  the  cliff  into 
the  water."  And  Janet,  with  arms  akimbo  and 
eyes  blazing  with  anger,  was  not  a  comfortable 
sight. 

So,  with  a  smile  of  derision,  Braelands 
turned  his  back  on  the  women,  walking  with 
259 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

an  affected  deliberation  which  by  no  means  hid 
the  white  feather  from  the  laughing,  jeering 
fisher-wives  who  came  to  their  door  at  Janet's 
call  for  them,  and  whose  angry  mocking  fol 
lowed  him  until  he  was  out  of  sight  and  hear 
ing.  Then  there  was  a  conclave  in  Janet's 
house,  and  every  one  told  a  different  version  of 
the  Braelands  trouble.  In  each  case,  how 
ever,  Madame  was  credited  with  the  whole 
of  the  sorrow-making,  though  Janet  stoutly 
asserted  that  "a  man  who  was  feared  for  his 
mother  wasn't  fit  to  be  a  husband." 

"Madame's  tongue  and  temper  is  kindled 
from  a  coal  out  of  hell,"  she  said,  "and  that  is 
the  God's  truth;  but  she  could  n't  do  ill  with 
them,  if  Archie  Braelands  was  n't  a  coward  —  a 
sneaking,  trembling  coward,  that  has  n't  the 
heart  in  him  to  stand  between  poor  little 
Sophy  and  the  most  spiteful,  hateful  old  sin 
ner  this  side  of  the  brimstone  pit." 

But  though  the  birr  and  first  flame  of  the 
village  anger  gradually  cooled  down,  Janet's 
and  Christina's  hearts  were  hot  and  heavy 
within  them,  and  they  could  not  work,  nor  eat, 
nor  sleep  with  any  relish,  for  thinking  of  the 
poor  little  runaway  wife.  Indeed,  in  every 
cottage  there  was  one  topic  of  wonder  and  pity, 
and  one  sad  lament  when  two  or  three  of  the 
women  came  together :  "  Poor  Sophy  !  Poor 
260 


DRIVEN  TO   HIS   DUTY 

Sophy  Braelands !  "  It  was  noticeable,  how 
ever,  that  not  a  single  woman  had  a  wrong 
thought  of  Sophy.  Madame  could  easily  sus 
pect  the  worst ;  but  the  "  worst "  was  an  incred 
ible  thing  to  a  fisher-wife.  Some  indeed 
blamed  her  for  not  tholing  her  grief  until  her 
husband  came  back;  but  not  a  single  heart  sus 
pected  her  of  a  liaison  with  her  old  lover. 

Archie,  however,  returned  from  his  in 
effectual  effort  to  find  her  with  every  suspic 
ion  strengthened.  Madame  could  hardly  have 
hoped  for  a  visit  so  completely  in  her  favour; 
and  after  it  Archie  was  entirely  under  her 
influence.  It  is  true  he  was  wretchedly  de 
spondent;  but  he  was  also  furiously  angry. 
He  fancied  himself  the  butt  of  his  friends, 
he  believed  every  one  to  be  talking  about  his 
affairs,  and,  day  by  day,  his  sense  of  outrage 
and  dishonour  pressed  him  harder  and  harder. 
In  a  month  he  was  quite  ready  to  take  legal 
steps  to  release  himself  from  such  a  doubtful 
tie,  and  Madame,  with  his  tacit  permission, 
took  the  first  step  towards  such  a  consumma 
tion  by  writing  with  her  own  hand  the  notice 
which  had  driven  Sophy  to  despair. 

While  events  were  working  towards  this  end, 
Sophy  was  helpless  and  senseless  in  the  Glas 
gow  hospital.  Archie's  anger  was  grounded 
on  the  fact  that  she  must  know  of  his  return ; 
261 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

and  yet  she  had  neither  come  back  to  her  home 
nor  sent  him  a  line  of  communication.  He 
told  himself  that  if  she  had  written  him  one 
line,  he  would  have  gone  to  the  end  of  the 
earth  after  her.  And  anon  he  told  himself 
that  if  she  had  been  true  to  him,  she  would 
have  written  or  else  come  back  to  her  home. 
Say  she  was  sick,  she  could  have  got  some  one 
to  use  the  pen  or  the  telegraph  for  her.  And 
this  round  of  reasoning,  always  led  into  the 
same  channel  by  Madame,  finally  assumed  not 
the  changeable  quality  of  argument,  but  the 
positiveness  of  fact. 

So  the  notice  of  her  abandonment  was  sent 
by  the  press  far  and  wide,  and  yet  there  came 
no  protest  against  it;  for  Sophy  had  brought 
to  the  hospital  nothing  by  which  she  could 
be  identified,  and  as  no  hint  of  her  personal 
appearance  was  given,  it  was  impossible  to 
connect  her  with  it.  Thus  while  its  cruel 
words  linked  suspicion  with  her  name  in  every 
household  where  they  went,  she  lay  ignorantly 
passive,  knowing  nothing  at  all  of  the  wrong 
done  her  and  of  the  unfortunate  train  of  cir 
cumstances  which  finally  forced  her  husband 
to  doubt  her  love  and  her  honour.  It  was  an 
additional  calamity  that  this  angry  message 
of  severance  was  the  first  thing  that  met  her 
consciousness  when  she  was  at  all  able  to  act. 
262 


DRIVEN   TO    HIS   DUTY 

Her  childish  ignorance  and  her  primitive  ideas 
aided  only  too  well  the  impression  of  finality  it 
gave.  She  put  it  beside  all  she  had  seen  and 
heard  of  her  husband's  love  for  Marion  G  lam  is, 
and  the  miserable  certainty  was  plain  to  her. 
She  knew  she  was  dying,  and  a  quiet  place  to 
die  in  and  a  little  love  to  help  her  over  the 
hard  hour  seemed  to  be  all  she  could  expect 
now;  the  thought  of  Janet  and  Christina  was 
her  last  hope.  Thus  it  was  that  Janet  found 
her  trembling  and  weeping  on  her  doorstep; 
thus  it  was  she  heard  that  pitiful  plaint, 
"Take  me  in,  Janet!  Take  me  in  to  die!" 

Never  for  one  moment  did  Janet  think  of 
refusing  this  sad  petition.  She  sat  down  beside 
her;  she  laid  Sophy's  head  against  her  broad 
loving  breast ;  she  looked  with  wondering  pity 
at  the  small,  shrunken  face,  so  wan  and  ghost 
like  in  the  gray  light.  Then  she  called  Chris 
tina,  and  Christina  lifted  Sophy  easily  in  her 
arms,  and  carried  her  into  her  own  house. 
"For  we  '11  give  Braelands  no  occasion  against 
either  her  or  Andrew,"  she  said.  Then  they 
undressed  the  weary  woman  and  made  her  a 
drink  of  strong  tea;  and  after  a  little  she 
began  to  talk  in  a  quick,  excited  manner  about 
her  past  life. 

"  I  ran  away  from  Braelands  at  the  end  of 
July,"  she  said.  "I  could  not  bear  the  life 
263 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

there  another  hour;  I  was  treated  before  folk 
as  if  I  had  lost  my  senses;  I  was  treated  when 
I  was  alone  as  if  I  had  no  right  in  the  house, 
and  as  if  my  being  in  it  was  a  mortal  wrong 
and  misery  to  every  one.  And  at  the  long  last 
the  woman  there  kept  Archie's  letter  from  me, 
and  I  was  wild  at  that,  and  sick  and  trembling 
all  over;  and  I  went  to  Aunt  Griselda,  and  she 
took  Madame' s  part  and  would  not  let  me 
stay  with  her  till  Archie  came  back  to  pro 
tect  me.  What  was  I  to  do  ?  T  thought  of  my 
cousins  in  Edinburgh  and  went  there,  and  could 
not  find  them.  Then  there  was  only  Ellen 
Montgomery  in  Glasgow,  and  I  was  ill  and  so 
tired ;  but  I  thought  I  could  manage  to  reach 
her." 

"  And  did  n't  you  reach  her,  dearie?  " 

"  No.  I  got  worse  and  worse ;  and  when  I 
reached  Glasgow  I  knew  nothing  at  all,  and 
they  sent  me  to  the  hospital." 

"Oh,  Sophy!  Sophy!" 

"Aye,  they  did.  What  else  could  be,  Janet? 
No  one  knew  who  I  was;  I  could  not  tell  any 
one.  They  were  n't  bad  to  me.  I  suffered, 
but  they  did  what  they  could  to  help  me. 
Such  dreadful  nights,  Janet !  Such  long,  awful 
days!  Week  after  week  in  which  I  knew 
nothing  but  pain;  I  could  not  move  myself; 
I  could  not  write  to  any  one,  for  my  thoughts 
26.4 


DRIVEN   TO    HIS   DUTY 

would  not  stay  with  me;  and  my  sight  went 
away,  and  I  had  hardly  strength  to  live." 

"Try  and  forget  it,  Sophy,  darling,"  said 
Christina.  "We  will  care  for  you  now,  and 
the  sea-winds  will  blow  health  to  you." 

She  shook  her  head  sadly.  "  Only  the  winds 
of  heaven  will  ever  blow  health  to  me,  Chris 
tina,"  she  answered;  "I  have  had  my  death 
blow.  I  am  going  fast  to  them  who  have  gone 
before  me.  I  have  seen  my  mother  often,  the 
last  wee  while.  I  knew  it  was  my  mother, 
though  I  do  not  remember  her;  she  is  waiting 
for  her  bit  lassie.  I  shall  not  have  to  go 
alone;  and  His  rod  and  staff  will  comfort  me, 
I  will  fear  no  evil." 

They  kissed  and  petted  and  tried  to  cheer 
her,  and  Janet  begged  her  to  sleep ;  but  she 
was  greatly  excited  and  seemed  bent  on  excus 
ing  and  explaining  what  she  had  done.  "  For  I 
want  you  to  tell  Archie  everything,  Janet,"  she 
said.  "  I  shall  maybe  never  see  him  again ; 
but  you  must  take  care  that  he  has  not  a  wrong 
thought  of  me." 

"He'll  get  the  truth  and  the  whole  truth 
from  me,  dearie." 

"Don't  scold  him,  Janet.  I  love  him  very 
much.  It  is  not  his  fault." 

"I  don't  know  that." 

"No,  it  is  not.  I  was  n't  home  to  Braelands 
265 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

two  days  before  Madame  began  to  make  fun  of 
my  talk,  and  my  manners,  and  my  dress,  and 
of  all  I  did  and  said.  And  she  got  Archie  to 
tell  me  I  must  mind  her,  and  try  to  learn  how 
to  be  a  fine  lady  like  her;  and  I  could  not  —  I 
could  not.  And  then  she  set  Archie  against 
me,  and  I  was  scolded  just  for  nothing  at  all. 
And  then  I  got  ill,  and  she  said  I  was  only 
sulky  and  awkward;  but  I  just  could  not  learn 
the  books  I  be  to  learn,  nor  walk  as  she  showed 
me  how  to  walk,  nor  talk  like  her,  nor  do  any 
thing  at  all  she  tried  to  make  me  do.  Oh, 
the  weary,  weary  days  that  I  have  fret  myself 
through  !  Oh,  the  long,  painful  nights !  I  am 
thankful  they  can  never,  never  come  back." 

"Then  don't  think  of  them  now,  Sophy. 
Try  and  rest  yourself  a  bit,  and  to-morrow  you 
shall  tell  me  everything." 

"  To-morrow  will  be  too  late,  can't  you  see  that, 
Janet?  I  must  clear  myself  to-night  —  now  — 
or  you  won't  know  what  to  say  to  Archie." 

"  Was  Archie  kind  to  you,  Sophy?  " 

"  Sometimes  he  was  that  kind  I  thought  I 
must  be  in  the  wrong,  and  then  I  tried  again 
harder  than  ever  to  understand  the  weary  books 
and  do  what  Madame  told  me.  Sometimes 
they  made  him  cross  at  me,  and  I  thought  I 
must  die  with  the  shame  and  heartache  from  it. 
But  it  was  not  till  Marion  Glamis  came  back 
266 


DRIVEN   TO    HIS   DUTY 

that  I  lost  all  hope.  She  was  Archie's  first 
love,  you  know." 

"She  was  nothing  of  the  kind.  I  don't 
believe  he  ever  cared  a  pin  for  her.  You  had 
the  man's  first  love;  you  have  it  yet,  if  it  is 
worth  aught.  He  was  here  seeking  you,  dearie, 
and  he  was  distracted  with  the  loss  of  you." 

"  In  the  morning  you  will  send  for  him,  Janet, 
very  early;  and  though  I  '11  be  past  talking 
then,  you  will  talk  for  me.  You  will  tell  him 
how  Madame  tortured  me  about  the  Glamis 
girl,  how  she  kept  my  letters,  and  made  Mrs. 
Stirling  think  I  was  not  in  my  right  mind," 
and  so  between  paroxysms  of  pain  and  cough 
ing,  she  went  over  and  over  the  sad  story  of 
petty  wrongs  that  had  broken  her  heart,  and 
driven  her  at  last  to  rebellion  and  flight. 

"Oh!  my  poor  lassie,  why  didn't  you  come 
to  Christina  and  me?  " 

"There  was  aye  the  thought  of  Andrew. 
Archie  would  have  been  angry,  maybe,  and 
I  could  only  feel  that  I  must  get  away  from 
Braelands.  When  aunt  failed  me,  something 
seemed  to  drive  me  to  Edinburgh,  and  then  on 
to  Glasgow;  but  it  was  all  right,  you  see,  I 
have  saved  you  and  Christina  for  the  last  hour," 
and  she  clasped  Christina's  hand  and  laid  her 
head  closer  to  Janet's  breast. 

"And  I  would  like  to  see  the  man  or  woman 

267 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

that  will  dare  to  trouble  you  now,  my  bonnie 
bairn,"  said  Janet.  There  was  a  sob  in  her 
voice,  and  she  crooned  kind  words  to  the  dying 
girl,  who  fell  asleep  at  last  in  her  arms.  Then 
Janet  went  to  the  door,  and  stood  almost  gasp 
ing  in  the  strong  salt  breeze;  for  the  shock 
of  Sophy's  pitiful  return  had  hurt  her  sorely. 
There  was  a  full  moon  in  the  sky,  and  the  cold, 
gray  waters  tossed  restlessly  under  it.  "  Lord 
help  us,  we  must  bear  what  's  sent!  "  she 
whispered;  then  she  noticed  a  steamboat  with 
closely  reefed  sails  lying  in  the  offing,  and 
added  thankfully,  " There  is  'The  Falcon,' 
God  bless  her!  And  it  's  good  to  think  that 
Andrew  Binnie  is  n't  far  away;  maybe  he  '11  be 
wanted.  I  wonder  if  I  ought  to  send  a  word  to 
him;  if  Sophy  wants  to  see  him,  she  shall  have 
her  way;  dying  folk  don't  make  any  mistakes." 
Now  when  Andrew  came  to  anchor  at  Pitten- 
durie,  it  was  his  custom  to  swing  out  a  signal 
light,  and  if  the  loving  token  was  seen,  Janet 
and  Christina  answered  by  placing  a  candle 
in  their  windows.  This  night  Janet  put  three 
candles  in  her  window.  "Andrew  will  wonder 
at  them,"  she  thought,  "and  maybe  come  on 
shore  to  find  out  whatever  their  meaning  may 
be."  Then  she  hurriedly  closed  the  door. 
The  night  was  cold,  but  it  was  more  than  that, 
—  the  air  had  the  peculiar  coldness  that  gives 
268 


DRIVEN   TO   HIS   DUTY 

sense  of  the  supernatural ;  such  coldness  as 
precedes  the  advent  of  a  spirit.  She  was  awed ; 
she  opened  her  mouth  as  if  to  speak,  but  was 
dumb;  she  put  out  her  hands  —  but  who  can 
arrest  the  invisible? 

Sleep  was  now  impossible.  The  very  air  of 
the  room  was  sensitive.  Christina  sat  wide 
awake  on  one  side  of  the  bed,  Janet  on  the 
other;  they  looked  at  each  other  frequently, 
but  did  not  talk.  There  was  no  sound  but  the 
rising  moans  of  the  northeast  wind,  no  light 
but  the  glow  of  the  fire  and  the  shining  of  the 
full  moon  looking  out  from  the  firmament  as 
from  eternity.  Sophy  slept  restlessly  like  one 
in  half-conscious  pain,  and  when  she  awoke 
before  dawning,  she  was  in  a  high  fever  and 
delirious;  but  there  was  one  incessant,  gasping 
cry  for  "Andrew!  " 

"Andrew!  Andrew!  Andrew!"  she  called 
with  fast  failing  breath,  "Andrew,  come  and 
go  for  Archie.  Only  you  can  bring  him  to 
me."  And  Janet  never  doubted  at  this  hour 
what  love  and  mercy  asked  for.  "Folks  may 
talk  if  they  want  to,"  she  said  to  Christina,  "  I 
am  going  down  to  the  village  to  get  some  one 
to  take  a  message  to  Andrew.  Sophy  shall 
have  her  will  at  this  hour  if  I  can  compass  it." 

The  men  of  the  village  were  mostly  yet  at 
the  fishing,  but  she  found  two  old  men  who 
269 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

willingly  put  out  to  "  The  Falcon  "  with  the 
message  for  her  captain.  Then  she  sent  a 
laddie  for  the  nearest  doctor,  and  she  called 
herself  for  the  minister,  and  asked  him  to  come 
and  see  the  sick  woman;  "forbye,  minister," 
she  added,  "I  'm  thinking  you  will  be  the  only 
person  in  Pittendurie  that  will  have  the  need 
ful  control  o'  temper  to  go  to  Braelands  with 
the  news."  She  did  not  specially  hurry  any 
one,  for,  sick  as  Sophy  was,  she  believed  it 
likely  Archie  Braelands  and  a  good  doctor 
might  give  her  such  hope  and  relief  as  would 
prolong  her  life  a  little  while.  "She  is  so 
young,"  she  thought,  aand  love  and  sea-breezes 
are  often  a  match  for  death  himself." 

The  old  men  who  had  gone  for  Andrew  were 
much  too  infirm  to  get  close  to  "The  Falcon." 
For  with  the  daylight  her  work  had  begun,  and 
she  was  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  a  melee  of 
fishing-boats.  Some  were  discharging  their 
boxes  of  fish;  others  were  struggling  to  get 
some  point  of  vantage;  others  again  fighting  to 
escape  the  uproar.  The  air  was  filled  with  the 
roar  of  the  waves  and  with  the  voices  of  men, 
blending  in  shouts,  orders,  expostulations, 
words  of  anger,  and  words  of  jest. 

Above  all  this  hubbub,  Andrew's  figure  on 
the   steamer's   bridge  towered   large   and  com 
manding,    as    he   watched    the    trunks    of    fish 
270 


DRIVEN   TO   HIS   DUTY 

hauled  on  board,  and  then  dragged,  pushed, 
thrown,  or  kicked,  as  near  the  mouth  of  the 
hold  as  the  blockade  of  trunks  already  shipped 
would  permit.  But,  sharp  as  a  crack  of  thunder, 
a  stentorian  voice  called  out :  — 

"Captain  Binnie  wanted!  Girl  dying  in 
Pittendurie  wants  him  !  " 

Andrew  heard.  The  meaning  of  the  three 
lights  was  now  explained.  He  had  an  imme 
diate  premonition  that  it  was  Sophy,  and  he 
instantly  deputed  his  charge  to  Jamie,  and  was 
at  the  gunwale  before  the  shouter  had  repeated 
his  alarm.  To  a  less  prompt  and  practised 
man,  a  way  of  reaching  the  shore  would  have 
been  a  dangerous  and  tedious  consideration; 
but  Andrew  simply  selected  a  point  where  a 
great  wave  would  lift  a  small  boat  near  to  the 
level  of  the  ship's  bulwarks,  and  when  this 
occurred,  he  leaped  into  her,  and  was  soon 
going  shoreward  as  fast  as  his  powerful  stroke 
at  the  oars  could  carry  him. 

When  he  reached  Christina's  cottage,  Sophy 
had  passed  beyond  all  earthly  care  and  love. 
She  heeded  not  the  tendereet  words  of  comfort ; 
her  life  was  inexorably  coming  to  its  end;  and 
every  one  of  her  muttered  words  was  mysteri 
ous,  important,  wondrous,  though  they  could 
make  out  nothing  she  said,  save  only  that  she 
talked  about  "angels  resting  in  the  hawthorn 
271 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

bowers."  Hastily  Christina  gave  Andrew  the 
points  of  her  sorrowful  story,  and  then  she 
suddenly  remembered  that  a  strange  man  had 
brought  there  that  morning  some  large,  impor 
tant-looking  papers  which  he  had  insisted  on 
giving  to  the  dying  woman.  Andrew,  on 
examination,  found  them  to  be  proceedings  in 
the  divorce  case  between  Archibald  Braelands 
and  his  wife  Sophy  Traill. 

"Some  one  has  recognised  her  in  the  train 
last  night  and  then  followed  her  here,"  he 
said  pitifully.  They  were  in  a  gey  hurry  with 
their  cruel  work.  I  hope  she  knows  nothing 
about  it." 

"  No,  no,  they  did  n't  come  till  she  was  clean 
beyond  the  worriments  of  this  life.  She  did 
not  see  the  fellow  who  put  them  in  her  hands; 
she  heard  nothing  he  said  to  her." 

"Then  if  she  comes  to  herself  at  all,  say 
nothing  about  them.  What  for  should  we  tell 
her?  Death  will  break  her  marriage  very  soon 
without  either  judge  or  jury." 

"The  doctor  says  in  a  few  hours  at  the 
most." 

"Then  there  is  no  time  to  lose.  Say  a 
kind  '  farewell  '  for  me,  Christina,  if  you  find 
a  minute  in  which  she  can  understand  it.  I  'm 
off  to  Braelands,"  and  he  put  the  divorce  papers 
in  his  pocket,  and  went  down  the  cliff  at  a  run. 
272 


DRIVEN   TO    HIS   DUTY 

When  he  reached  the  house,  Archie  was 
at  the  door  on  his  horse  and  evidently  in  a 
hurry;  but  Andrew's  look  struck  him  on  the 
heart  like  a  blow.  He  dismounted  without  a 
word,  and  motioned  to  Andrew  to  follow  him. 
They  turned  into  a  small  room,  and  Archie 
closed  the  door.  For  a  moment  there  was  a 
terrible  silence,  then  Andrew,  with  passionate 
sorrow,  threw  the  divorce  papers  down  on  the 
table. 

"You  '11  not  require,  Braelands,  to  fash  folk 
with  the  like  of  them;  your  wife  is  dying. 
She  is  at  my  sister's  house.  Go  to  her  at 
once." 

"What  is  that  to  you?  Mind  your  own 
business,  Captain  Binnie. " 

"  It  is  the  business  of  every  decent  man  to 
call  comfort  to  the  dying.  Go  and  say  the 
words  you  ought  to  say.  Go  before  it  is  too 
late." 

"Why  is  my  wife  at  your  sister's  house?  " 

"God  pity  the  poor  soul,  she  had  no  other 
place  to  die  in!  For  Christ's  sake,  go  and 
say  a  loving  word  to  her." 

"Where  has  she  been  all  this  time?  Tell 
me  that,  sir." 

"Dying  slowly  in  the  public  hospital  at 
Glasgow." 

"My  God!" 

18  273 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"There  is  no  time  for  words  now;  not  a 
moment  to  spare.  Go  to  your  wife  at  once." 

u  She  left  me  of  her  own  free  will.  Why 
should  I  go  to  her  now?" 

"She  did  not  leave  you;  she  was  driven 
away  by  devilish  cruelty.  And  oh,  man,  man, 
go  for  your  own  sake  then !  To-morrow  it  will 
be  too  late  to  say  the  words  you  will  weep  to 
say.  Go  for  your  own  sake.  Go  to  spare  your 
self  the  black  remorse  that  is  sure  to  come  if 
you  don't  go.  If  you  don't  care  for  your  poor 
wife,  go  for  your  own  sake !  " 

"  I  do  care  for  my  wife.      I  wished  —  " 

"Haste  you  then,  don't  lose  a  moment! 
Haste  you !  haste  you !  If  it  is  but  one  kind 
word  before  you  part  forever,  give  it  to  her. 
She  has  loved  you  well ;  she  loves  you  yet ;  she 
is  calling  for  you  at  the  grave's  mouth.  Haste 
you,  man  !  haste  you !  " 

His  passionate  hurry  drove  like  a  wind,  and 
Braelands  was  as  straw  before  it.  His  horse 
stood  there  ready  saddled ;  Andrew  urged  him 
to  it,  and  saw  him  flying  down  the  road  to 
Pittendtirie  before  he  was  conscious  of  his  own 
efforts.  Then  he  drew  a  long  sigh,  lifted  the 
divorce  papers  and  threw  them  into  the  blazing 
fire.  A  moment  or  two  he  watched  them  pass 
into  smoke,  and  then  he  left  the  house  with  all 
the  hurry  of  a  soul  anxious  unto  death.  Half- 
274 


DRIVEN   TO    HIS    DUTY 

way  down  the  garden  path,  Madame  Braelands 
stepped  in  front  of  him. 

"What  have  you  come  here  for?  "  she  asked 
in  her  haughtiest  manner. 

"For  Braelands." 

"Where  have  you  sent  him  to  in  such  a 
black  hurry?" 

"To  his  wife.     She  is  dying." 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense ! " 

"She  is  dying." 

"  No  such  luck  for  my  house.  The  creature 
has  been  dying  ever  since  he  married  her." 

"  You  have  been  killing-  Jier  ever  since  he 
married  her.  Give  way,  woman,  I  don't  want 
to  speak  to  you;  I  don't  want  to  touch  the  very 
clothes  of  you.  I  think  no  better  of  you  than 
God  Almighty  does,  and  He  will  ask  Sophy's 
life  at  your  hands." 

"  I  shall  tell  Braelands  of  your  impertinence. 
It  will  be  the  worse  for  you." 

"It  will  be  as  God  wills,  and  no  other  way. 
Let  me  pass.  Don't  touch  me,  there  is  blood 
on  your  hands,  and  blood  on  your  skirts;  and 
you  are  worse  — ten  thousand  times  worse  — 
than  any  murderer  who  ever  swung  on  the 
gallows-tree  for  her  crime!  Out  of  my  way, 
Madame  Braelands ! " 

She  stood  before  him  motionless  as  a  white 
stone  with   passion,   and  yet  terrified   by  the 
275 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

righteous  anger  she  had  provoked.  Words 
would  not  come  to  her,  she  could  not  obey 
his  order  and  move  out  of  his  way;  so  Andrew 
turned  into  another  path  and  left  her  where 
she  stood,  for  he  was  impatient  of  delay,  and 
with  steps  hurried  and  stumbling,  he  followed 
the  husband  whom  he  had  driven  to  his  duty. 


276 


CHAPTER   XII 

AMONG  HER   OWN   PEOPLE 

BRAELANDS  rode  like  a  man  possessed,  furi 
ously,  until  he  reached  the  foot  of  the  cliff  on 
which  Janet's  and  Christina's  cottages  stood. 
Then  he  flung  the  reins  to  a  fisher-laddie,  and 
bounded  up  the  rocky  platform.  Janet  was 
standing  in  the  door  of  Christina's  cottage  talk 
ing  to  the  minister.  This  time  she  made  no 
opposition  to  Braelands's  entrance  ;  indeed,  there 
was  an  expression  of  pity  on  her  face  as  she 
moved  aside  to  let  him  pass. 

He  went  in  noiselessly,  reverently,  suddenly 
awed  by  the  majesty  of  Death's  presence.  This 
was  so  palpable  and  clear,  that  all  the  mere 
material  work  of  the  house  had  been  set  aside. 
No  table  had  been  laid,  no  meat  cooked ;  there 
had  been  no  thought  of  the  usual  duties  of  the 
day-time.  Life  stood  still  to  watch  the  great 
mystery  transpiring  in  the  inner  room. 

The  door  to  it  stood  wide  open,  for  the  day 
was  hot  and  windless.  Archie  went  softly  in. 
He  fell  on  his  knees  by  his  dying  wife,  he  folded 
277 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE  NETS 

her  to  his  heart,  he  whispered  into  her  fast- 
closing  ears  the  despairing  words  of  love,  re 
awakened,  when  all  repentance  was  too  late. 
He  called  her  back  from  the  very  shoal  of  time 
to  listen  to  him.  With  heart-broken  sobs  he 
begged  her  forgiveness,  and  she  answered  him 
with  a  smile  that  had  caught  the  glory  of  heaven. 
At  that  hour  he  cared  not  who  heard  the  cry 
of  his  agonising  love  and  remorse.  Sophy  was 
the  whole  of  his  world;  and  his  anguish,  so 
imperative,  brought  perforce  the  response  of  the 
dying  woman  who  loved  him  yet  so  entirely. 
A  few  tears  —  the  last  she  was  ever  to  shed  — 
gathered  in  her  eyes ;  fondest  words  of  affection 
were  broken  on  her  lips,  her  last  smile  was  for 
him,  her  sweet  blue  eyes  set  in  death  with  their 
gaze  fixed  on  his  countenance. 

When  the  sun  went  down,  Sophy's  little  life 
of  twenty  years  was  over.  Her  last  few  hours 
were  very  peaceful.  The  doctor  had  said  she 
would  suffer  much ;  but  she  did  not.  Lying  in 
Archie's  arms,  she  slipped  quietly  out  of  her 
clay  tabernacle,  and  doubtless  took  the  way 
nearest  to  her  Father's  House.  No  one  knew 
the  exact  moment  of  her  departure  —  no  one 
but  Andrew.  He,  standing  humbly  at  the  foot 
of  her  bed,  divined  by  some  wondrous  instinct 
the  mystic  flitting,  and  so  he  followed  her  soul 
with  fervent  prayer,  and  a  love  which  spurned 

278 


AMONG   HER  OWN   PEOPLE 

the  grave  and  which  was  pure  enough  to  venture 
into  His  presence  with  her. 

It  was  a  scene  and  a  moment  that  Archibald 
Braelands  in  his  wildest  and  most  wretched 
after-days  never  forgot.  The  last  rays  of  the 
setting  sun  fell  across  the  death-bed,  the  wind 
from  the  sea  came  softly  through  the  open 
window,  the  murmur  of  the  waves  on  the  sands 
made  a  mournful,  restless  undertone  to  the 
majestic  words  of  the  minister,  who,  standing 
by  the  bed-side,  declared  with  uplifted  hands  and 
in  solemnly  triumphant  tones  the  confidence  and 
hope  of  the  departing  spirit. 

" '  Lord  Thou  hast  been  our  dwelling  place  in  all 
generations. 

"  *  Before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever 
Thou  hadst  formed  the  earth  and  the  world  ;  even  from 
everlasting  to  everlasting,  Thou  art  God. 

"  *  For  a  thousand  years  in  Thy  sight  are  but  as  yester 
day  when  it  is  past ;  and  as  a  watch  in  the  night. 

"  '  The  days  of  our  years  are  three-score  years  and 
ten;  and  if  by  reason  of  strength,  they  be  four-score 
years,  yet  is  their  strength  labor  and  sorrow ;  for  it  is 
soon  cut  off,  and  we  fly  away.' " 

Then  there  was  a  pause;  Andrew  said  "  //  is 
over  !  "  and  Janet  took  the  cold  form  from  the 
distracted  husband,  and  closed  the  eyes  forever. 

There  was  no  more  now  for  Archie  to  do,  and 
he  went  out  of  the  room  followed  by  Andrew. 
279 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

"Thank  you  for  coming  for  me,  Captain,"  be 
said,  "  you  did  me  a  kindness  I  shall  never 
forget." 

"  I  knew  you  would  be  glad.  I  am  grieved  to 
trouble  you  further, Braelands,  at  this  hour;  but 
the  dead  must  be  waited  on.  It  was  Sophy's 
wish  to  be  buried  with  her  own  folk." 

"  She  is  my  wife." 

"Nay,  you  had  taken  steps  to  cast  her  off." 

"  She  ought  to  be  brought  to  Braelands." 

"  She  shall  never  enter  Braelands  again.  It 
was  a  black  door  to  her.  Would  you  wish 
hatred  and  scorn  to  mock  her  in  her  coffin? 
She  bid  my  mother  see  that  she  was  buried  in 
peace  and  good  will  and  laid  with  her  own 
people." 

Archie  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  and 
tried  to  think.  Not  even  when  dead  could  he 
force  her  into  the  presence  of  his  mother  —  and 
it  was  true  he  had  begun  to  cast  her  off;  a 
funeral  from  Braelands  would  be  a  wrong  and 
an  insult.  But  all  was  in  confusion  in  his  mind 
and  he  said  :  "  I  cannot  think.  I  cannot  decide. 
I  am  not  able  for  anything  more.  Let  me  go. 
To-morrow —  I  will  send  word  —  I  will  come." 

"  Let  it  be  so  then.  I  am  sorry  for  you, 
Braelands — but  if  I  hear  nothing  further,  I  will 
follow  out  Sophy's  wishes." 

"You  shall  hear — but  I  must  have  time  to 
280 


AMONG   HER   OWN   PEOPLE 

think.     I  am  at  the  last  point.     I   can   bear  no 
more." 

Then  Andrew  went  with  him  down  the  cliff", 
and  helped  him  to  his  saddle ;  and  afterwards  he 
walked  along  the  beach  till  he  came  to  a  lonely 
spot  hid  in  the  rocks,  and  there  he  threw  him 
self  face  downward  on  the  sands,  and  "  communed 
with  his  own  heart  and  was  still."  At  this 
supreme  hour,  all  that  was  human  flitted  and 
faded  away,  and  the  primal  essence  of  self  was 
overshadowed  by  the  presence  of  the  Infinite. 
When  the  midnight  tide  flowed,  the  bitterness  of 
the  sorrow  was  over,  and  he  had  reached  that 
serene  depth  of  the  soul  which  enabled  him  to 
rise  to  his  feet  and  say  "  Thy  Will  be  done !  " 

The  next  day  they  looked  for  some  com 
munication  from  Braelands;  yet  they  did  not 
suffer  this  expectation  to  interfere  with  Sophy's 
explicit  wish,  and  the  preparations  for  her 
funeral  went  on  without  regard  to  Archie's 
promise.  It  was  well  so,  for  there  was  no  re 
demption  of  it.  He  did  not  come  again  to 
Pittendurie,  and  if  he  sent  any  message,  it  was 
not  permitted  to  reach  them.  He  was  notified, 
however,  of  the  funeral  ceremony,  which  was  set 
for  the  Sabbath  following  her  death,  and  Andrew 
was  sure  he  would  at  least  come  for  one  last 
look  at  the  wife  whom  he  had  loved  so  much 
and  wronged  so  deeply.  He  did  not  do  so. 
281 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

Shrouded  in  white,  her  hands  full  of  white 
asters,  Sophy  was  laid  to  rest  in  the  little  wind 
blown  kirkyard  of  Pittendurie.  It  was  said  by 
some  that  Braelands  watched  the  funeral  from 
afar  off;  others  declared  that  he  lay  in  his  bed, 
raving  and  tossing  with  fever;  but  this  or  that, 
he  was  not  present  at  her  burial.  Her  own  kin 
—  who  were  fishers  —  laid  the  light  coffin  on  a 
bier  made  of  oars,  and  carried  it  with  psalm- 
singing  to  the  grave.  It  was  Andrew  who  threw 
on  the  coffin  the  first  earth.  It  was  Andrew 
who  pressed  the  cover  of  green  turf  over  the 
small  mound,  and  did  the  last  tender  offices  that 
love  could  offer.  Oh,  so  small  a  mound !  A 
little  child  could  have  stepped  over  it,  and  yet, 
to  Andrew,  it  was  wider  than  all  the  starry 
spaces. 

The  day  was  a  lovely  one,  and  the  kirkyard  was 
crowded  to  see  little  Sophy  join  the  congrega 
tion  of  the  dead.  After  the  ceremony  was  over, 
the  minister  had  a  good  thought ;  he  said  :  "  We 
will  not  go  back  to  the  kirk  ;  but  we  will  stay 
here,  and  around  the  graves  of  our  friends  and 
kindred  praise  God  for  the  '  sweet  enlarge 
ment'  of  their  death."  Then  he  sang  the  first 
line  of  the  paraphrase,  "  O  God  of  Bethel  by 
whose  hand,"  and  the  people  took  it  from  his  lips, 
and  made  holy  songs  and  words  of  prayer  fill 
the  fresh  keen  atmosphere,  and  mingle  with  the 
282 


AMONG   HER   OWN    PEOPLE 

cries  of  the  sea-birds  and  the  hushed  complain 
ing  of  the  rising  waters.  And  that  afternoon 
many  heard  for  the  first  time  those  noble  words 
from  the  Book  of  Wisdom  that,  during  the 
more  religious  days  of  the  middle  ages,  were 
read  not  only  at  the  grave-side  of  the  beloved, 
but  also  at  every  anniversary  of  their  death. 

"  But  if  the  righteous  be  cut  off  early  by  death ;  she 
shall  be  at  rest. 

"  For  honor  standeth  not  in  length  of  days  ;  neither 
is  it  computed  by  number  of  years. 

"  She  pleased  God  and  \vas  beloved,  and  she  was 
taken  away  from  living  among  sinners. 

"  Her  place  was  changed,  lest  evil  should  mar  her 
understanding  or  falsehood  beguile  her  soul. 

"  She  was  made  perfect  in  a  little  while,  and  finished 
the  work  of  many  years. 

"  For  her  soul  pleased  God,  and  therefore  He  made 
haste  to  lead  her  forth  out  of  the  midst  of  iniquity. 

"And  the  people  saw  it  and  understood  it  not; 
neither  considered  they  this  — 

"  That  the  grace  of  God  and  His  mercy  are  upon 
His  saints,  and  His  regard  unto  His  Elect." 

Chief  among  the  mourners  was  Sophy's  aunt 
Griselda.  She  now  bitterly  repented  the  unwise 
and  unkind  "  No."  Sophy  was  dearer  to  her 
than  she  thought,  and  when  she  had  talked  over 
her  wrongs  with  Janet,  her  indignation  knew  no 
bounds.  It  showed  itself  first  of  all  to  the 

283 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

author  of  these  wrongs.  Madame  came  early 
to  her  shop  on  Monday  morning,  and  presum 
ing  on  her  last  confidential  talk  with  Miss 
Kilgour,  began  the  conversation  on  that  basis. 

"  You  see,  Miss  Kilgour,"  she  said  with  a  sigh, 
"  what  that  poor  girl's  folly  has  led  her  to." 

"  I  see  what  she  has  come  to.  I  'm  not 
blaming  Sophy,  however." 

"Well,  whoever  is  to  blame  — and  I  suppose 
Braelands  should  have  been  more  patient  with 
the  troubles  he  called  to  himself —  I  shall  have 
to  put  on  '  blacks '  in  consequence.  It  is  a  great 
expense,  and  a  very  useless  one;  but  people 
will  talk  if  I  do  not  go  into  mourning  for  my 
son's  wife." 

"  I  would  n't  do  it,  if  I  was  you." 

"  Society  obliges.  You  must  make  me  two 
gowns  at  least." 

"  I  will  not  sew  a  single  stitch  for  you." 

"  Not  sew  for  me?" 

"  Never  again ;  not  if  you  paid  me  a  guinea  a 
stitch." 

"What   do   you    mean?      Are   you   in   your 

senses?" 

"Just  as  much  as  poor  Sophy  was.  And 
I  '11  never  forgive  myself  for  listening  to  your 
lies  about  my  niece.  You  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  yourself.  Your  cruelties  to  her  are  the  talk 
of  the  whole  country-side." 
284 


AMONG   HER   OWN   PEOPLE 

"  How  dare  you  call  me  a  liar?  " 

"  When  I  think  of  wee  Sophy  in  her  coffin,  I 
could  call  you  something  far  worse." 

"You  are  an  impertinent  woman." 

"  Ah  well,  I  never  broke  the  Sixth  Command. 
And  if  I  was  you,  Madame,  I  would  n't  put 
'  blacks  '  on  about  it.  But '  blacks  '  or  no  '  blacks,' 
you  can  go  to  some  other  body  to  make  them 
for  you ;  for  I  want  none  of  your  custom,  and 
I'll  be  obliged  to  you  to  get  from  under  my 
roof.  This  is  a  decent,  God-fearing  house." 

Madame  had  left  before  the  end  of  Griselda's 
orders ;  but  she  followed  her  to  the  door,  and 
delivered  her  last  sentence  as  Madame  was 
stepping  into  her  carriage.  She  was  furious  at 
the  truths  so  uncompromisingly  told  her,  and 
still  more  so  at  the  woman  who  had  been  their 
mouthpiece.  "  A  creature  whom  I  have  made  ! 
actually  made  !  "  she  almost  screamed.  "  She 
would  be  out  at  service  to-day  but  for  me !  the 
shameful,  impertinent,  ungrateful  wretch  !  " 

She  ordered  Thomas  to  drive  her  straight 
back  home,  and,  quivering  with  indignation, 
went  to  her  son's  room.  He  was  dressed,  but 
lying  prone  upon  his  bed;  his  mother's  com 
plaining  irritated  his  mood  beyond  his  endur 
ance.  He  rose  up  in  a  passion;  his  white 
haggard  face  showed  how  deeply  sorrow  and 
remorse  had  ploughed  into  his  very  soul. 
285 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"  Mother  !  "  he  cried,  "  you  will  have  to  hear 
the  truth,  in  one  way  or  another,  from  every 
one.  I  tell  you  myself  that  you  are  not  guiltless 
of  Sophy's  death  —  neither  am  I." 

"  It  is  a  lie." 

"  Do  go  out  of  my  room.  This  morning  you 
are  unbearable." 

"  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself.  Are 
you  going  to  permit  people  to  insult  your 
mother,  right  and  left,  without  a  word?  Have 
you  no  sense  of  honour  and  decency?" 

"  No,  for  I  let  them  insult  the  sweetest  wife 
ever  a  man  had.  I  am  a  brute,  a  monster,  not 
fit  to  live.  I  wish  I  was  lying  by  Sophy's  side. 
I  am  ashamed  to  look  either  men  or  women  in 
the  face." 

"  You  are  simply  delirious  with  the  fever  you 
have  had." 

"  Then  have  some  mercy  on  me.  I  want  to 
be  quiet." 

"  But  I  have  been  grossly  insulted." 

"  We  shall  have  to  get  used  to  that,  and  bear 
it  as  we  can.  We  deserve  all  that  can  be  said  of 
us — or  to  us."  Then  he  threw  himself  on  his 
bed  again  and  refused  to  say  another  word. 
Madame  scolded  and  complained  and  pitied 
herself,  and  appealed  to  God  and  man  against 
the  wrongs  she  suffered,  and  finally  went  into  a 
paroxysm  of  hysterical  weeping.  But  Archie 
286 


AMONG   HER   OWN    PEOPLE 

took  no  notice  of  the  wordy  tempest,  so  that 
Madame  was  confounded  and  frightened  by  an 
indifference  so  unusual  and  unnatural. 

Weeks  of  continual  sulking  or  recrimination 
passed  drearily  away.  Archie,  in  the  first  tide 
of  his  remorse,  fed  himself  on  the  miseries 
which  had  driven  Sophy  to  her  grave.  He 
interviewed  the  servants  and  heard  all  they  had 
to  tell  him.  He  had  long  conversations  with 
Miss  Kilgour,  and  made  her  describe  over  and 
over  Sophy's  despairing  look  and  manner  the 
morning  she  ran  away.  For  the  poor  woman 
found  a  sort  of  comfort  in  blaming  herself  and 
in  receiving  meekly  the  hard  words  Archie  could 
give  her.  He  visited  Mrs.  Stirling  in  regard  to 
Sophy's  sanity,  and  heard  from  that  lady  a 
truthful  report  of  all  that  had  passed  in  her 
presence.  He  went  frequently  to  Janet's  cottage, 
and  took  all  her  home  thrusts  and  all  her  scorn 
ful  words  in  a  manner  so  humble,  so  contrite, 
and  so  heart-broken,  that  the  kind  old  woman 
began  finally  to  forgive  and  comfort  him.  And 
the  outcome  of  all  these  interviews  and  con 
versations  Madame  had  to  bear.  Her  son,  in 
his  great  sorrow,  threw  off  entirely  the  yoke  of 
her  control.  He  found  his  own  authority  and 
rather  abused  it.  She  had  hoped  the  final 
catastrophe  would  draw  him  closer  to  her; 
hoped  the  coolness  of  friends  and  acquaintances 

287 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

would  make  him  more  dependent  on  her  love 
and  sympathy.  It  acted  in  the  opposite  direc 
tion.  The  public  seldom  wants  two  scapegoats. 
Madame's  ostracism  satisfied  its  idea  of  justice. 
Every  one  knew  Archie  was  very  much  under 
her  control.  Every  one  could  see  that  he  suf 
fered  dreadfully  after  Sophy's  death.  Every 
one  came  promptly  to  the  opinion  that  Madame 
only  was  to  blame  in  the  matter.  "The  poor 
husband "  shared  the  popular  sympathy  with 
Sophy. 

However,  in  the  long  run,  he  had  his  penalty 
to  pay,  and  the  penalty  came,  as  was  most 
just,  through  Marion  Glamis.  Madame  quickly 
noticed  that  after  her  loss  of  public  respect, 
Marion's  affection  grew  colder.  At  the  first, 
she  listened  to  the  tragedy  of  Sophy's  illness 
and  death  v/ith  a  decent  regard  for  Madame' s 
feelings  on  the  subject.  When  Madame  pooh- 
poohed  the  idea  of  Sophy  being  in  an  hospital 
for  weeks,  unknown,  Marion  also  thought  it 
"most  unlikely;"  when  Madame  was  "pretty 
sure  the  girl  had  been  in  London  during  the 
hospital  interlude,"  Marion  also  thought,  "it 
might  be  so;  Captain  Binnie  was  a  very  taking 
man."  When  Madame  said,  "Sophy's  whole 
conduct  was  only  excusable  on  the  supposition 
of  her  unaccountability, "  Marion  also  thought 
"she  did  act  queerly  at  times." 


AMONG   HER   OWN   PEOPLE 

Even  these  admissions  were  not  made  with 
the  warmth  that  Madame  expected  from  Marion, 
and  they  gradually  grew  fainter  and  more  gen 
eral.  She  began  to  visit  Braelands  less  and 
less  frequently,  and,  when  reproached  for  her  re- 
missness,  said,  "  Archie  was  now  a  widower,  and 
she  did  not  wish  people  to  think  she  was  run 
ning  after  him ;  "  and  her  manner  was  so  cold 
and  conventional  that  Madame  could  only  look 
at  her  in  amazement.  She  longed  to  remind 
her  of  their  former  conversations  about  Archie, 
but  the  words  died  on  her  lips.  Marion  looked 
quite  capable  of  denying  them,  and  she  did  not 
wish  to  quarrel  with  her  only  visitor. 

The  truth  was  that  Marion  had  her  own  de 
signs  regarding  Archie,  and  she  did  not  intend 
Madame  to  interfere  with  them.  She  had 
made  up  her  mind  to  marry  Braelands,  but  she 
was  going  to  have  him  as  the  spoil  of  her  own 
weapons  —  not  as  a  gift  from  his  mother. 
And  she  was  not  so  blinded  by  hatred  as  to 
think  Archie  could  ever  be  won  by  the  abuse  of 
Sophy.  On  the  contrary,  she  very  cautiously 
began  to  talk  of  her  with  pity,  and  even  admi 
ration.  She  fell  into  all  Archie's  opinions 
and  moods  on  the  subject,  and  declared  with 
warmth  and  positiveness  that  she  had  always 
opposed  Madame' s  extreme  measures.  In  the 
long  run,  it  came  to  pass  that  Archie  could 
'9  289 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

talk  comfortably  with  Marion  about  Sophy,  for 
she  always  reminded  him  of  some  little  act  of 
kindness  to  his  wife,  or  of  some  instance  where 
he  had  decidedly  taken  her  part,  so  that,  gradu 
ally,  she  taught  him  to  believe  that,  after  all, 
he  had  not  been  so  very  much  to  blame. 

In  these  tactics,  Miss  Glamis  was  influ 
enced  by  the  most  powerful  of  motives  —  self- 
preservation.  She  had  by  no  means  escaped 
the  public  censure,  and  in  that  set  of  society 
she  most  desired  to  please,  had  been  decidedly 
included  in  the  polite  ostracism  meted  out  to 
Madame.  Lovers  she  had  none,  and  she  began 
to  realise,  when  too  late,  that  the  connection 
of  her  name  with  that  of  Archie  Braelands  had 
been  a  wrong  to  her  matrimonial  prospects  that 
it  would  be  hard  to  remedy.  In  fact,  as  the 
winter  went  on,  she  grew  hopeless  of  undoing 
the  odium  generated  by  her  friendship  with 
Madame  and  her  flirtation  with  Madame 's  son. 

"And  I  shall  make  no  more  efforts  at  con 
ciliation,"  she  said  angrily  to  herself  one  day, 
after  finding  her  name  had  been  dropped  from 
Lady  Blair's  visiting-list;  "I  will  now  marry 
Archie.  My  fortune  and  his  combined  will 
enable  us  to  live  where  and  how  we  please. 
Father  must  speak  to  him  on  the  subject  at 
once." 

That  night  she  happened  to  find  the  Admiral 
290 


AMONG   HER   OWN   PEOPLE 

in  an  excellent  mood  for  her  purpose.  The 
Laird  of  Binin  had  not  "changed  hats"  with 
him  when  they  met  on  the  highway,  and  he 
fumed  about  the  circumstance  as  if  it  had  been 
a  mortal  insult. 

"  I  '11  never  lift  my  hat  to  him  again,  Marion, 
let  alone  open  my  mouth,"  he  cried;  "no,  not 
even  if  we  are  sitting  next  to  each  other  at  the 
club  dinner.  What  wrong  have  I  ever  done 
him  ?  Have  I  ever  done  him  a  favour  that  he 
should  insult  me  ?  " 

"It  is  that  dreadful  Braelands's  business. 
That  insolent,  selfish,  domineering  old  woman 
has  ruined  us  socially.  I  wish  I  had  never 
seen  her  face." 

"You  seemed  to  be  fond  enough  of  her 
once." 

"  I  never  liked  her;  I  now  detest  her.  The 
way  she  treated  Archie's  wife  was  abominable. 
There  is  no  doubt  of  that.  Father,  I  am  going 
to  take  this  situation  by  the  horns  of  its 
dilemma.  I  intend  to  marry  Archie.  No  one 
in  the  county  can  afford  to  snub  Braelands. 
He  is  popular  and  likely  to  be  more  so;  he 
is  rich  and  influential,  and  I  also  am  rich. 
Together  we  may  lead  public  opinion  —  or  defy 
it.  My  name  has  been  injured  by  my  friend 
ship  with  him.  Archie  Braelands  must  give 
me  his  name." 

291 


A  KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"  By  St.  Andrew,  he  shall !  "  answered  the 
irritable  old  man.  "  I  will  see  he  does.  I 
ought  to  have  considered  this  before,  Marion. 
Why  did  you  not  show  me  my  duty  ?  " 

"It  is  early  enough;  it  is  now  only  eight 
months  since  his  wife  died." 

The  next  morning  as  Archie  was  riding  slowly 
along  the  highway,  the  Admiral  joined  him. 
"Come  home  to  lunch  with  me,"  he  said,  and 
Archie  turned  his  horse  and  went.  Marion 
was  particularly  sympathetic  and  charming. 
She  subdued  her  spirits  to  his  pitch;  she 
took  the  greatest  interest  in  his  new  politi 
cal  aspirations;  she  listened  to  his  plans  about 
the  future  with  smiling  approvals,  until  he 
said  he  was  thinking  of  going  to  the  United 
States  for  a  few  months.  He  wished  to 
study  Republicanism  on  its  own  ground,  and 
to  examine,  in  their  working  conditions,  sev 
eral  new  farming  implements  and  expedients 
that  he  thought  of  introducing.  Then  Marion 
rose  and  left  the  room.  She  looked  at  her 
father  as  she  did  so,  and  he  understood  her 
meaning. 

"Braelands,"  he  said,  when  they  were  alone, 
"  I  have  something  to  say  which  you  must  take 
into  your  consideration  before  you  leave  Scot 
land.  It  is  about  Marion." 

"Nothing  ill  with  Marion,  I  hope?  " 
292 


AMONG   HER   OWN   PEOPLE 

"  Nothing  but  what  you  can  cure.  She  is 
suffering  very  much,  socially,  from  the  con 
stant  association  of  her  name  with  yours." 

"Sir?" 

"Allow  me  to  explain.  At  the  time  of 
your  sweet  little  wife's  death,  Marion  was 
constantly  included  in  the  blame  laid  to 
Madame  Braelands.  You  know  now  how 
unjustly." 

"I  would  rather  not  have  that  subject  dis 
cussed." 

"  But,  by  Heaven,  it  must  be  discussed !  I 
have,  at  Marion's  desire,  said  nothing  hitherto, 
because  we  both  saw  how  much  you  were  suf 
fering;  but,  sir,  if  you  are  going  away  from 
Fife,  you  must  remember  before  you  go  that 
the  living  have  claims  as  well  as  the  dead." 

"  If  Marion  has  any  claim  on  me,  I  am  here, 
willing  to  redeem  it." 

"'If, '  Braelands;  it  is  not  a  question  of 
'if.'  Marion's  name  has  been  injured  by  its 
connection  with  your  name.  You  know  the 
remedy.  I  expect  you  to  behave  like  a  gentle 
man  in  this  matter." 

"  You  expect  me  to  marry  Marion  ?  " 

"  Precisely.  There  is  no  other  effectual  way 
to  right  her." 

"  I  see  Marion  in  the  garden ;  I  will  go  and 
speak  to  her." 

293 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

"Do,  my  dear  fellow.  I  should  like  this 
affair  pleasantly  settled." 

Marion  was  sitting  on  the  stone  bench  round 
the  sun  dial.  She  had  a  white  silk  parasol 
over  her  head,  and  her  lap  was  full  of  apple- 
blossoms.  A  pensive  air  softened  her  hand 
some  face,  and  as  Archie  approached,  she 
looked  up  with  a  smile  that  was  very  attractive. 
He  sat  down  at  her  side  and  began  to  finger  the 
pink  and  white  flowers.  He  was  quite  aware 
that  he  was  tampering  with  his  fate  as  well ; 
but  at  his  very  worst,  Archie  had  a  certain 
chivalry  about  women  that  only  needed  to  be 
stirred  by  a  word  or  a  look  indicating  injustice. 
He  was  not  keen  to  perceive ;  but  when  once  his 
eyes  were  opened,  he  was  very  keen  to  feel. 

"  Marion,"  he  said  kindly,  taking  her  hand  in 
his,  "have  you  suffered  much  for  my  fault?  " 

"I  have  suffered,  Archie." 

"Why  did  you  not  tell  me  before? " 

"You  have  been  so  full  of  trouble.  How 
could  I  add  to  it?  " 

"  You  have  been  blamed  ?  " 

"Yes,  very  much." 

"There  is  only  one  way  to  right  you, 
Marion;  I  offer  you  my  name  and  my  hand. 
Will  you  take  it?" 

"A  woman  wants  love.  If  I  thought  you 
could  ever  love  me  - 

294 


AMONG   HER   OWN   PEOPLE 

"  We  are  good  friends.  You  have  been  my 
comforter  in  many  miserable  hours.  I  will 
make  no  foolish  protestations;  but  you  know 
whether  you  can  trust  me.  And  that  we  should 
come  to  love  one  another  very  sincerely  is 
more  than  likely." 

"  I  do  love  you.  Have  I  not  always  loved 
you?  " 

And  this  frank  avowal  was  just  the  incentive 
Archie  required.  His  heart  was  hungry  for 
love;  he  surrendered  himself  very  easily  to  the 
charming  of  affection.  Before  they  returned  to 
the  house,  the  compact  was  made,  and  Marion 
Glamis  and  Archibald  Braelands  were  definitely 
betrothed. 

As  Archie  rode  home  in  the  gloaming,  it 
astonished  him  a  little  to  find  that  he  felt  a 
positive  satisfaction  in  the  prospect  of  telling 
his  mother  of  his  engagement — a  satisfaction 
he  did  not  analyze,  but  which  was  doubtless 
compounded  of  a  sense  of  justice,  and  of  a  not 
very  amiable  conviction  that  the  justice  would 
not  be  more  agreeable  than  justice  usually  is. 
Indeed,  the  haste  with  which  he  threw  himself 
from  his  horse  and  strode  into  the  Braelands' s 
parlour,  and  the  hardly  veiled  air  of  defiance 
with  which  he  muttered  as  he  went,  "  It  's  her 
own  doing;  let  her  be  satisfied  with  her  work," 
showed  a  heart  that  had  accepted  rather  than 
295 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

chosen  its  destiny,   and    that  rebelled  a  little 
under  the  constraint. 

Madame  was  sitting  alone  in  the  waning 
light;  her  son  had  been  away  from  her  all  day, 
and  had  Bent  her  no  excuse  for  his  detention. 
She  was  both  angry  and  sorrowful ;  and  there 
had  been  a  time  when  Archie  would  have  been 
all  conciliation  and  regret.  That  time  was 
past.  His  mother  had  forfeited  all  his  respect; 
there  was  nothing  now  between  them  but  that 
wondrous  tie  of  motherhood  which  a  child 
must  be  utterly  devoid  of  grace  and  feeling  to 
forget.  Archie  never  quite  forgot  it.  In  his 
worst  moods  he  would  tell  himself,  "after  all 
she  is  my  mother.  It  was  because  she  loved 
me.  Her  inhumanity  was  really  jealousy,  and 
jealousy  is  cruel  as  the  grave."  But  this 
purely  natural  feeling  lacked  now  all  the  con 
fidence  of  mutual  respect  and  trust.  It  was 
only  a  natural  feeling;  it  had  lost  all  the 
nobler  qualities  springing  from  a  spiritual 
and  intellectual  interpretation  of  their  rela 
tionship. 

"You  have  been  away  all  day,  Archie," 
Madame  complained.  "  I  have  been  most  un 
happy  about  you." 

"  I  have  been  doing  some  important  business. " 

"  May  I  ask  what  it  was  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  wooing  a  wife." 
296 


AMONG   HER   OWN   PEOPLE 

"And  your  first  wife  not  eight  months  in  her 
grave ! " 

"It  was  unavoidable.  I  was  in  a  manner 
forced  to  it." 

"  Forced  ?  The  idea !  Are  you  become  a 
coward  ? " 

"Yes,"  he  answered  wearily;  "anything 
before  a  fresh  public  discussion  of  my  poor 
Sophy's  death." 

"Oh!     Who  is  the  lady?" 

"There  is  only  one  lady  possible." 

"Marion  Glamis?  " 

"  I  thought  you  could  say  '  who  '." 

"  I  hope  to  heaven  you  will  never  marry  that 
woman!  She  is  false  from  head  to  foot.  I 
would  rather  see  another  fisher-girl  here  than 
Marion  Glamis." 

"You  yourself  have  made  it  impossible  for 
me  to  marry  any  one  but  Marion;  though, 
believe  me,  if  I  could  find  another  '  fisher-girl ' 
like  Sophy,  I  would  defy  everything,  and 
gladly  and  proudly  marry  her  to-morrow." 

"That  is  understood;  you  need  not  reiterate. 
I  see  through  Miss  Glamis  now,  the  deceitful, 
ungrateful  creature ! " 

"  Mother,  I  am  going  to  marry  Miss  Glamis. 
You  must  teach  yourself  to  speak  respectfully 
of  her." 

"I  hate  her  worse  than  I  hated  Sophy.  I 
297 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

am  the  most  wretched  of  women;  "  and  her  air 
of  misery  was  so  genuine  and  hopeless  that  it 
hurt  Archie  very  sensibly. 

"I  am  sorry,"  he  said;  "but  you,  and  you 
only,  are  to  blame.  I  have  no  need  to  go 
over  your  plans  and  plots  for  this  very  end;  I 
have  no  need  to  remind  you  how  you  seasoned 
every  hour  of  poor  Sophy's  life  with  your 
regrets  that  Marion  was  not  my  wife.  These 
circumstances  would  not  have  influenced  me, 
but  her  name  has  been  mixed  up  with  mine  and 
smirched  in  the  contact." 

"And  you  will  make  a  woman  with  a 
'  smirched '  name  Mistress  of  Braelands  ?  Have 
you  no  family  pride?  " 

"  I  will  wrong  no  woman,  if  I  know  it ;  that 
is  my  pride.  If  I  wrong  them,  I  will  right 
them.  However,  I  give  myself  no  credit  about 
righting  Marion,  her  father  made  me  do  so." 

"My  humiliation  is  complete.  I  shall  die 
of  shame." 

"Oh,  no!  You  will  do  as  I  do — make  the 
best  of  the  affair.  You  can  talk  of  Marion's 
fortune  and  of  her  relationship  to  the  Earl  of 
Glamis,  and  so  on." 

"That  nasty,  bullying  old  man!  And  you 
to  be  frightened  by  him !  It  is  too  shameful." 

"I  was  not  frightened  by  him;  but  I  have 
dragged  one  poor  innocent  woman's  name 
298 


AMONG   HER   OWN   PEOPLE 

through  the  dust  and  dirt  of  public  discussion, 
and,  before  God,  Mother,  I  would  rather  die  than 
do  the  same  wrong  to  another.  You  know  the 
Admiral's  temper;  once  roused  to  action,  he 
would  spare  no  one,  not  even  his  own  daughter. 
It  was  then  my  duty  to  protect  her." 

"  I  have  nursed  a  viper,  and  it  has  bitten  me. 
To-night  I  feel  as  if  the  bite  would  be  fatal." 

"  Marion  is  not  a  viper;  she  is  only  a  woman 
bent  on  protecting  herself.  However,  I  wish 
you  would  remember  that  she  is  to  be  your 
daughter-in-law,  and  try  and  meet  her  on  a 
pleasant  basis.  Any  more  scandal  about  Brae- 
lands  will  compel  me  to  shut  up  this  house 
absolutely  and  go  abroad  to  live." 

The  next  day  Madame  put  all  her  pride  and 
hatred  out  of  sight  and  went  to  call  on  Marion 
with  congratulations;  but  the  girl  was  not 
deceived.  She  gave  her  the  conventional  kiss, 
and  said  all  that  it  was  proper  to  say;  but 
Madame' s  overtures  were  not  accepted. 

"It  is  only  a  flag  of  truce,"  thought  Madame 
as  she  drove  homeward,  "  and  after  she  is  mar 
ried  to  Archie,  it  will  be  war  to  the  knife-hilt 
between  us.  I  can  feel  that,  and  I  would  not 
fear  it  if  I  was  sure  of  Archie.  But  alas,  he  is 
so  changed  !  He  is  so  changed  ! ' 

Marion's  thoughts  were  not  more  friendly, 
and  she  did  not  scruple  to  express  them  in 
299 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

words  to  her  father.  "That  dreadful  old 
woman  was  here  this  afternoon/'  she  said. 
"  She  tried  to  flatter  me ;  she  tried  to  make 
me  believe  she  was  glad  I  was  going  to  marry 
Archie.  What  a  consummate  old  hypocrite 
she  is !  I  wonder  if  she  thinks  I  will  live  in 
the  same  house  with  her? " 

"Of  course  she  thinks  so." 

"  I  will  not.  Archie  and  I  have  agreed  to 
marry  next  Christmas.  She  will  move  into 
her  own  house  in  time  to  hold  her  Christmas 
there." 

"I  wouldn't  insist  on  that,  Marion.  She 
has  lived  at  Braelands  nearly  all  her  life.  The 
Dower  House  is  but  a  wretched  place  after  it. 
The  street  in  which  it  stands  has  become  not 
only  poor,  but  busy,  and  the  big  garden  that 
was  round  it  when  the  home  was  settled  on  her 
was  sold  in  Archie's  father's  time,  bit  by  bit, 
for  shops  and  a  preserving  factory.  You  can 
not  send  her  to  the  Dower  House." 

"  She  cannot  stay  at  Braelands.  She  charges 
the  very  air  of  any  house  she  is  in  with  hatred 
and  quarrelling.  Every  one  knows  she  has 
saved  money;  if  she  does  not  like  the  Dower 
House,  she  can  go  to  Edinburgh,  or  London, 
or  anywhere  she  likes  — the  further  away  from 
Braelands,  the  better." 


300 


CHAPTER    XIII 

THE   "  LITTLE   SOPHY  " 

MADAME  did  not  go  to  the  Dower  House. 
Archie  was  opposed  to  such  a  humiliation  of 
the  proud  woman,  and  a  compromise  was  made 
by  which  she  was  to  occupy  the  house  in 
Edinburgh  which  had  been  the  Braelands's 
residence  during  a  great  part  of  every  winter. 
It  was  a  handsome  dwelling,  and  Madame  set 
tled  herself  there  in  great  splendour  and  com 
fort;  but  she  was  a  wretched  woman  in  spite 
of  her  surroundings.  She  had  only  unhappy 
memories  of  the  past;  she  had  no  loving  anti 
cipations  for  the  future.  She  knew  that  her 
son  was  likely  to  be  ruled  by  the  woman  at 
his  side,  and  she  hoped  nothing  from  Marion 
Glamis.  The  big  Edinburgh  house  with  its 
heavy  dark  furniture,  its  shadowy  draperies, 
and  its  stately  gloom,  became  a  kind  of  death 
chamber  in  which  she  slowly  went  to  decay, 
body  and  soul. 

No  one  missed  her  much  or  long  in  Largo, 
and  in  Edinburgh  she  found  it  impossible  to 
301 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

gather  round  herself  the  company  to  which  she 
had  been  wont.  Unpleasant  rumours  somehow 
clung  to  her  name;  no  one  said  much  about 
her,  but  she  was  not  popular.  The  fine  dwell 
ing  in  St.  George's  Square  had  seen  much  gay 
company  in  its  spacious  rooms;  but  Madame 
found  it  a  hopeless  task  to  re-assemble  it. 
She  felt  this  want  of  favour  keenly,  though 
she  need  not  have  altogether  blamed  herself 
for  it,  had  she  not  been  so  inordinately  con 
scious  of  her  own  personality.  For  Archie 
had  undoubtedly,  in  previous  winters,  been 
the  great  social  attraction.  His  fine  manners, 
his  good  nature,  his  handsome  appearance,  his 
wealth,  and  his  importance  as  a  matrimonial 
venture,  had  crowded  the  receptions  which 
Madame  believed  owed  their  success  to  her 
own  tact  and  influence. 

Gradually,  however,  the  truth  dawned  upon 
her;  and  then,  in  utter  disgust,  she  retired 
from  a  world  that  hardly  missed  her,  and 
which  had  long  only  tolerated  her  for  the  acci 
dents  of  her  connections  and  surroundings. 
Her  disposition  for  saving  grew  into  a  passion; 
she  became  miserly  in  the  extreme,  and  pun 
ished  herself  night  and  day  in  order  that  she 
might  add  continually  to  the  pile  of  hoarded 
money  which  Marion  afterwards  spent  with  a 
lavish  prodigality.  Occasionally  her  thin,  gray 
302 


THE   "LITTLE   SOPHY" 

face,  and  her  haggard  figure  wrapped  in  a  black 
shawl,  were  seen  at  the  dusty  windows  of  the 
room  she  occupied.  The  rest  of  the  house  she 
closed.  The  windows  were  boarded  up  and 
the  doors  padlocked,  and  yet  she  lived  in  con 
stant  fear  of  attacks  from  thieves  on  her  life 
for  her  money.  Finally  she  dismissed  her 
only  servant  lest  she  might  be  in  league  with 
such  characters;  and  thus,  haunted  by  terrors 
of  all  kinds  and  by  memories  she  could  not 
destroy,  she  dragged  on  for  twenty  years  a  life 
without  hope  and  without  love,  and  died  at 
last  with  no  one  but  her  lawyer  and  her  physi 
cian  at  her  side.  She  had  sent  for  Archie,  but 
he  was  in  Italy,  and  Marion  she  did  not  wish 
to  see.  Her  last  words  were  uttered  to  her 
self.  "I  have  had  a  poor  life!"  she  moaned 
with  a  desperate  calmness  that  was  her  only 
expression  of  the  vast  and  terrible  desolation 
of  her  heart  and  soul. 

"A  poor  life,"  said  the  lawyer,  "and  yet 
she  has  left  twenty-six  thousand  pounds  to  her 
son." 

"A  poor  life,  and  a  most  lonely  flitting," 
reiterated  her  physician  with  awe  and  sadness. 

However,  she  herself  had  no  idea  when  she 

removed  to  Edinburgh  of  leading  so  "poor  a 

life."     She   expected    to  make  her   house   the 

centre  of  a  certain  grave  set  of  her  own  class 

303 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

and  age;  she  expected  Archie  to  visit  her 
often ;  she  expected  to  find  many  new  interests 
to  occupy  her  feelings  and  thoughts.  But  she 
was  too  old  to  transplant.  Sophy's  death  and 
its  attending  circumstances  had  taken  from  her 
both  personally  and  socially  more  than  she 
knew.  Archie,  after  his  marriage,  led  entirely 
by  Marion  and  her  ways  and  desires,  never 
went  towards  Edinburgh.  The  wretched  old 
lady  soon  began  to  feel  herself  utterly  deserted ; 
and  when  her  anger  at  this  position  had  driven 
love  out  of  her  heart,  she  fell  an  easy  prey  to 
the  most  sordid,  miserable,  and  degrading  of 
passions,  the  hoarding  of  money.  Nor  was  it 
until  death  opened  her  eyes  that  she  perceived 
she  had  had  " a  poor  life." 

She  began  this  Edinburgh  phase  of  it  under 
a  great  irritation.  Knowing  that  Archie  would 
not  marry  until  Christmas,  and  that  after  the 
marriage  he  and  Marion  were  going  to  London 
until  the  spring,  she  saw  no  reason  for  her 
removal  from  Braelands  until  their  return. 
Marion  had  different  plans.  She  induced 
Archie  to  sell  off  the  old  furniture,  and  to  re 
decorate  and  re -furnish  Braelands  from  garret 
to  cellar.  It  gave  Madame  the  first  profound 
shock  of  her  new  life.  The  chairs  and  tables 
she  had  used  sold  at  auction  to  the  trades 
people  of  Largo  and  the  farmers  of  the  country - 
304 


THE   "LITTLE   SOPHY" 

side !  She  could  not  understand  how  Archie 
could  endure  the  thought.  Under  her  influ 
ence,  he  never  would  have  endured  it;  but 
Archie  Braelands  smiled  on,  and  coaxed,  and 
sweetly  dictated  by  Marion  Glamis,  was  ready 
enough  to  do  all  that  Marion  wished. 

"Of  course  the  old  furniture  must  be  sold," 
she  said.  "  Why  not  ?  It  will  help  to  buy  the 
new.  We  don't  keep  our  old  gowns  and  coats; 
why  then  our  old  chairs  and  tables  ? " 

"They  have  associations." 

"  Nonsense,  Archie !  So  has  my  white  para 
sol.  Shall  I  keep  it  in  tissue  paper  forever? 
Such  sentimental  ideas  are  awfully  behind  the 
times.  Your  grandfather's  coat  and  shoes  will 
not  dress  you  to-day;  neither,  my  dear,  can  his 
notions  and  sentiments  direct  you." 

So  Braelands  was  turned,  as  the  country  peo 
ple  said,  "out  of  the  windows,"  and  Madame 
hastened  away  from  the  sight  of  such  desecra 
tion.  It  made  Archie  popular,  however.  The 
artisans  found  profitable  work  in  the  big  rooms, 
and  the  county  families  looked  forward  to 
the  entertainments  they  were  to  enjoy  in  the 
renovated  mansion.  It  restored  Marion  also 
to  general  estimation.  There  was  a  future 
before  her  now  which  it  would  be  pleasant 
to  share,  and  every  one  considered  that  her 
engagement  to  Archie  exonerated  her  from  all 
20  305 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

participation  in  Madame' s  cruelty.  "She  has 
always  declared  herself  innocent,"  said  the 
minister's  wife,  "and  Braelands's  marriage  to 
her  affirms  it  in  the  most  positive  manner. 
Those  who  have  been  unjust  to  Miss  Glamis 
have  now  no  excuse  for  their  injustice."  This 
authoritative  declaration  in  Marion's  favour  had 
such  a  decided  effect  that  every  invitation  to 
her  marriage  was  accepted,  and  the  ceremony, 
though  purposely  denuded  of  everything  likely 
to  recall  the  tragedy  now  to  be  forgotten,  was 
really  a  very  splendid  private  affair. 

On  the  Sabbath  before  it,  Archie  took  in 
the  early  morning  a  walk  to  the  kirk-yard  at 
Pittendurie.  He  was  going  to  bid  Sophy  a 
last  farewell.  Henceforward  he  must  try  and 
prevent  her  memory  troubling  his  life  and 
influencing  his  moods  and  motives.  It  was  a 
cold,  chilling  morning,  and  the  great  immen 
sity  of  the  ocean  spread  away  to  the  occult 
shores  of  the  poles.  The  sky  was  grey  and 
sombre,  the  sea  cloudy  and  unquiet;  and  far 
off  on  the  eastern  horizon,  a  mysterious  portent 
was  slowly  rolling  onward. 

He  crossed  the  stile  and  walked  slowly  for 
ward.  On  his  right  hand  there  was  a  large, 
newly-made  grave  with  an  oar  standing  upright 
at  its  head,  and  some  inscription  rudely  painted 
on  it.  His  curiosity  was  aroused,  and  he  went 

306 


THE   "  LITTLE   SOPHY" 

closer  to  read  the  words:  "Be  comforted! 
Alexander  Murray  Jias  prevailed. "  The  few 
words,  so  full  of  hope  and  triumph,  moved 
him  strangely,  He  remembered  the  fisherman 
Murray,  whose  victory  over  death  was  so  cer 
tainly  announced;  and  his  soul,  disregarding  all 
the  forbidding  of  priests  and  synods,  instantly 
sent  a  prayer  after  the  departed  conqueror. 
"Wherever  he  is,"  he  thought,  "surely  he  is 
closer  to  Heaven  than  I  am." 

He  had  been  in  the  kirk-yard  often  when 
none  but  God  saw  him,  and  his  feet  knew  well 
the  road  to  Sophy's  grave.  There  was  a  slen 
der  shaft  of  white  marble  at  the  head,  and 
Andrew  Binnie  stood  looking  at  it.  Braelands 
walked  forward  till  only  the  little  green  mound 
separated  them.  Their  eyes  met  and  filled 
with  tears.  They  clasped  hands  across  her 
grave  and  buried  every  sorrowful  memory, 
every  sense  of  wrong  or  blame,  in  its  depth 
and  height.  Andrew  turned  silently  away; 
Braelands  remained  there  some  minutes  longer. 
The  secret  of  that  invisible  communion  re 
mained  forever  his  own  secret.  Those  only 
who  have  had  similar  experiences  know  that 
souls  who  love  each  other  may,  and  can,  ex 
change  impressions  across  immensity. 

He  found  Andrew  sitting  on  the  stile,  gaz 
ing  thoughtfully  over  the  sea  at  the  pale  grey 
307 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

wall  of  inconceivable  height  which  was  draw 
ing  nearer  and  nearer.  "The  fog  is  coming," 
he  said,  "we  shall  soon  be  going  into  cloud 
after  cloud  of  it." 

"They  chilled  and  hurt  her  once.  She  is 
now  beyond  them." 

"She  is  in  Heaven.  God  be  thanked  for  His 
great  mercy  to  her ! " 

"  If  we  only  knew  something  sure.  Where 
is  Heaven?  Who  can  tell?" 

"In  Thy  presence  is  fullness  of  joy,  and  at 
Thy  right  hand  pleasures  forevermore.  Where 
God  is,  there  is  Heaven." 

"Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard." 

"But  God/iat/i  revealed  it;  not  a  future  reve 
lation,  Braelands,  but  a  present  one."  And 
then  Andrew  slowly,  and  with  pauses  full  of 
feeling  and  intelligence,  went  on  to  make  clear 
to  Braelands  the  Present  Helper  in  every  time 
of  need.  He  quoted  mainly  from  the  Bible, 
his  one  source  of  all  knowledge,  and  his  words 
had  the  splendid  vagueness  of  the  Hebrew, 
and  lifted  the  mind  into  the  illimitable.  And 
as  they  talked,  the  fog  enveloped  them,  one 
drift  after  another  passing  by  in  dim  majesty, 
till  the  whole  world  seemed  a  spectacle  of 
desolation,  and  a  breath  of  deadly  chillness 
forced  them  to  rise  and  wrap  their  plaids 
closely  round  them.  So  they  parted  at  the 
308 


THE   -LITTLE   SOPHY" 

kirk-yard  gate,  and  never,  never  again  met  in 
this  world. 

Braelands  turned  his  face  towards  Marion 
and  a  new  life;  and  Andrew  went  back  to 
his  ship  with  a  new  and  splendid  interest.  It 
began  in  wondering,  "whether  there  was  any 
good  in  a  man  abandoning  himself  to  a  noble, 
but  vain  regret  ?  Was  there  no  better  way  to 
pay  a  tribute  to  the  beloved  dead  ?  "  Brae- 
lands's  costly  monument  did  not  realise  his 
conception  of  this  possibility;  but  as  he  rowed 
back  to  his  ship  in  the  gathering  storm,  a 
thought  came  into  his  mind  with  all  the  asser 
tion  of  a  clang  of  steel,  and  he  cried  out  to  his 
Inner  Man : 

"  That,  oh  my  soul,  is  what  I  will  do;  that 
is  what  will  keep  my  love's  name  living  and 
lovely  in  the  hearts  of  her  people." 

His  project  was  not  one  to  be  accomplished 
without  much  labour  and  self-denial.  It  would 
require  a  great  deal  of  money,  and  he  would 
have  to  save  with  conscientious  care  many 
years  to  compass  his  desire,  which  was  to  build 
a  Mission  Ship  for  the  deep  sea  fishermen. 
Twelve  years  he  worked  and  saved,  and  then 
the  ship  was  built;  a  strong  steam-launch, 
able  to  buffet  and  bear  the  North  Sea  when  its 
waves  were  running  wild  over  everything.  She 
was  provided  with  all  appliances  for  religious 
309 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

comfort  and  teaching;  she  had  medicines  for 
the  sick  and  surgical  help  for  the  wounded; 
she  carried  every  necessary  protection  against 
the  agonising  "sea  blisters  "  which  torture  the 
fishermen  in  the  winter  season.  And  this 
vessel  of  many  comforts  was  called  the 
"Sophy  Traill." 

She  is  still  busy  about  her  work  of  mercy. 
Many  other  Mission  Ships  now  traverse  the 
great  fishing-fleets  of  the  North  Sea,  and  carry 
hope  and  comfort  to  the  fishermen  who  people 
its  grey,  wild  waters;  but  none  is  so  well 
beloved  by  them  as  the  "  Little  Sophy. "  When 
the  boats  lie  at  their  nets  on  a  summer's  night, 
it  is  on  the  "Little  Sophy"  that  "Rock  of 
Ages"  is  started  and  then  taken  up  by  the 
whole  fleet.  And  when  the  stormy  winds  of 
winter  blow  great  guns,  then  the  "  Little 
Sophy,"  flying  her  bright  colours  in  the  day 
time  and  showing  her  many  lights  at  night,  is 
always  rolling  about  among  the  boats,  blowing 
her  whistle  to  tell  them  she  is  near  by,  or 
sending  off  help  in  her  lifeboat,  or  steaming 
after  a  smack  in  distress. 

Fifteen  years  after  Andrew  and  Archie  parted 
at  the  kirk-yard,  Archie  came  to  the  knowledge 
first  of  Andrew's  living  monument  to  the  girl 
they  had  both  loved  so  much.  He  was  coming 
from  Norway  in  a  yacht  with  a  few  friends,  and 
310 


THE   -LITTLE   SOPHY" 

they  were  caught  in  a  heavy,  easterly  gale.  In 
a  few  hours  there  was  a  tremendous  sea,  and 
the  wind  rapidly  rose  to  a  hurricane.  The 
"  Little  Sophy "  steamed  after  the  helpless 
craft  and  got  as  near  to  her  as  possible;  but 
as  she  lowered  her  lifeboat,  she  saw  the  yacht 
stagger,  stop,  and  then  founder.  The  tops  of 
her  masts  seemed  to  meet,  she  had  broken  her 
back,  and  the  seas  flew  sheer  over  her. 

The  lifeboat  picked  up  three  men  from  her, 
and  one  of  them  was  Archie  Braelands.  He 
was  all  but  dead  from  exposure  and  buffeting; 
but  the  surgeon  of  the  Mission  Ship  brought 
him  back  to  life. 

It  was  some  hours  after  he  had  been  taken  on 
board;  the  storm  had  gone  away  northward  as 
the  sun  set.  There  was  the  sound  of  an  organ 
and  of  psalm-singing  in  his  ears,  and  yet  he 
knew  that  he  was  in  a  ship  on  a  tossing  sea, 
and  he  opened  his  eyes,  and  asked  weakly: 

"Where  am  I?" 

The  surgeon  stooped  to  him  and  answered  in 
a  cheery  voice:  "  On  the  '  Sophy  Traill  T  " 

A  cry,  shrill  as  that  of  a  fainting  woman, 
parted  Archie's  lips,  and  he  kept  muttering  in 
a  half-delirious  stupor  all  night  long,  "  The 
Sophy  Traill !  The  Sophy  Traill !  "  In  a  few 
days  he  recovered  strength  and  was  able  to 
leave  the  boat  which  had  been  his  salvation; 


A   KNIGHT   OF  THE   NETS 

but  in  those  few  days  he  heard  and  saw  much 
that  greatly  influenced  for  the  noblest  ends  his 
future  life. 

All  through  the  borders  of  Fife,  people 
talked  of  Archie's  strange  deliverance  by  this 
particular  ship,  and  the  old  story  was  told 
over  again  in  a  far  gentler  spirit.  Time  had 
softened  ill-feeling,  and  Archie's  career  was 
touched  with  the  virtue  of  the  tenderly  remem 
bered  dead. 

"  He  was  but  a  thoughtless  creature  before 
he  lost  wee  Sophy,"  Janet  said,  as  she  dis 
cussed  the  matter;  "and  now,  where  will  you 
find  a  better  or  a  busier  man?  Fife  's  proud  of 
him,  and  Scotland  's  proud  of  him,  and  if  Eng 
land  has  n't  the  sense  of  discerning  who  she 
ought  to  make  a  Prime  Minister  of,  that  isn't 
Braelands's  fault." 

"For  all  that,"  said  Christina,  sitting  among 
her  boys  and  girls,  "  Sophy  ought  to  have  mar 
ried  Andrew.  She  would  have  been  alive  to 
day  if  she  had." 

"You  aren't  always  an  oracle,  Christina, 
and  you  have  a  deal  to  learn  yet;  but  I  'm  not 
saying  but  what  poor  Sophy  did  make  a  mis 
take  in  her  marriage.  Folks  should  marry  in 
their  own  class,  and  in  their  own  faith,  and 
among  their  own  folk,  or  else  ninety-nine  times 
out  of  a  hundred  they  marry  sorrow;  but  I  'm 
312 


THE   -LITTLE   SOPHY" 

not  so  sure  that  being  alive  to-day  would  have 
been  a  miracle  of  pleasure  and  good  fortune. 
If  she  had  had  bairns,  as  ill  to  bring  up  and  as 
noisy  and  fashions  as  yours  are,  she  is  well 
spared  the  trouble  of  them." 

"You  have  spoiled  the  bairns  yourself, 
Mother.  If  I  ever  check  or  scold  them,  you 
are  aye  sure  to  take  their  part." 

"  Because  you  never  know  when  a  bairn  is  to 
blame  and  when  its  mother  is  to  blame.  I 
forgot  to  teach  you  that  lesson." 

Christina  laughed  and  said  something  about 
it  "  being  a  grand  thing  Andrew  had  no  lads 
and  lasses,"  and  then  Janet  held  her  head 
up  proudly,  and  said  with  an  air  of  severe 
admonition : 

"  It 's  well  enough  for  you  and  the  like  of  you 
to  have  lads  and  lasses ;  but  my  boy  Andrew 
has  a  duty  far  beyond  it,  he  has  the  '  Sophy 
Traill  '  to  victual  'and  store,  and  send  out  to 
save  souls  and  bodies." 

"  Lads  and  lasses  aren't  bad  things,  Mother." 

"They'll  be  all .  the  better  for  the  'Sophy 
Traill  '  and  the  other  boats  like  her.  That 
laddie  o'  yours  that  will  be  off  to  sea  whether 
you  like  it  or  not,  will  give  you  many  a  fear 
and  heartache.  Andrew's  *  boat  of  blessing' 
goes  where  she  is  bid  to  go,  and  does  as  she  is 
told  to  do.  That 's  the  difference." 
313 


A   KNIGHT   OF   THE   NETS 

Difference  or  not,  his  "  boat  of  blessing  "  was 
Andrew's  joy  and  pride.  She  had  been  his 
salvation,  inasmuch  as  she  had  consecrated  that 
passion  for  hoarding  money  which  was  the  weak 
side  of  his  character.  She  had  given  to  his 
dead  love  a  gracious  memory  in  the  hearts  of 
thousands,  and  "  a  name  far  better  than  that  of 
sons  and  daughters. " 


THE    END. 


314 


YB   /4I82 


